A Small Price to Pay for Her
by GeorgyannWayson
Summary: He didn't care that she was different; he couldn't live without her. And if looking like a moron was the price that he had to pay, then so be it. Their kids would be absolutely brilliant with her genes, anyway. (The story of Mr. and Mrs. Holmes) *Part one of an AU series* (COMPLETE)
1. Chapter One - Two Different Worlds

**A Small Price to Pay for Her**

**Chapter One – Two Different Worlds**

"Is this you, Mrs. Holmes?" Mary pointed to a photo in the open album in her lap of what she thought looked curiously like a female version of Sherlock with long blonde hair. The girl was smiling, her arms spread out wide in blissful contentment. Mrs. Holmes moved from where she was straightening up the bookshelf to look over Mary's shoulder.

"Oh, wow. I forgot about that picture," Mrs. Holmes said with a smile. "I was just starting university when that was taken. That seems like ages ago..." With a soft chuckle, Mrs. Holmes sat down next to Mary and pointed out certain pictures as they went through the entire album, vividly describing each photo as though the moment had just happened yesterday.

"Is it bad for me to say that Mr. Holmes looks a lot like Sherlock in this picture?" Mary asked, pointing to a picture of a young Mr. Holmes smirking at the camera. Mrs. Holmes laughed.

"Not at all, darling. I daresay Sherlock took more after Chris than me with certain quirks and habits."

"Throwing me under the bus, darling?" Mr. Holmes called as he walked into the drawing room, smiling at his wife, who gave him a droll stare back.

"I'm telling the truth is more like it."

"Don't believe everything she says, Mary." Mr. Holmes's eyes lit up with humor. "The boys didn't inherit the genius from my side of the family, I can promise you that." He nodded toward Mrs. Holmes's book, _The Dynamics of Combustion,_ sitting on the table. Mrs. Holmes snorted.

"I gave them the minds, but who gave them those smart mouths?" She pinned Mr. Holmes with a playful glare. He shrugged and nodded.

"There's no denying they're my sons, that's for sure," he told Mary, who chuckled as she looked between the elderly Holmes couple; such seemingly ordinary people, yet somehow they managed to produce two of the world's most brilliant people. If that wasn't a stroke of controlled fate, Mary didn't know what was.

"You know," Mr. Holmes said as he walked into the room to sit down next to Mrs. Holmes. "Linda and I had our share of trouble when it came to love." He gave Mary a knowing look. _Well,_ she thought to herself, _there's where Sherlock's deduction skills come from_. Mr. Holmes held his wife's hand, squeezing it gently. "Seemed like the odds were stacked against us for awhile there, but we managed to make it through."

Mary smiled sadly, a sudden pang of loneliness hitting her as she thought about her situation with John.

"Will you tell me about it?" she asked, desperate to get her mind onto something else. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes looked at each other and then settled back against the couch, still holding hands.

"It all started back at university," Mr. Holmes began...

* * *

"Chris, I'm going to say this with all the love that I have in my heart...you're a bloody idiot."

Chris rolled his eyes at his best friend, Michael's, statement as they walked across the grounds of the quiet university toward the dining hall.

"She's not my type," Chris said simply with a shrug, which made Michael scoff in utter disbelief. "Besides, what does it matter to you who I go out with, anyway?" he continued as they walked into the dining hall that clamored with the voices of students as they all poured in to see what food they could scrounge to eat before class.

"There are guys all around here that would kill to be you right now, you know," Michael said as he reached for a tapioca pudding. "You've got some of the most beautiful women on campus following you everywhere, and you barely give them the time of day."

"That's not true-" Chris started to say, but trailed off at Michael's droll stare. "All right, maybe that's a little bit true," he finally admitted after a pause. "But I'm not really out to have a girlfriend at the moment."

"And that's where you're an idiot," Michael said as they walked to a table to sit down. "We're at university now, Chris. It's our time to really get out there and find ourselves girlfriends."

Chris stared at his friend. "Wait, wait," he said. "So coming here wasn't about getting an education so I can get a career, but about girls?"

"It's always been about girls, Chris," Michael said as if he was talking to a moron.

"Well, excuse me for trying to think of something a little bit more important." As a particularly tall girl passed by them, Chris quickly grabbed his pencil and notebook to jot down a stray idea, blatantly ignoring his friend's scoff. He barely noticed that other students had joined them, but continued to write, the world drowning away as he lost himself in the life and lines of his narrator. Out of the blue, however, a voice barked over the noise of conversation.

"So, you've never had a girlfriend, 'Olmes?"

Chris looked up from his notebook and to his classmates. Every pair of eyes around the breakfast table was on him, eagerly awaiting his answer. His eyes slide to Michael, who was looking innocently around.

"Why is that, eh?" Billy Hamish, a classmate, slapped his shoulder roughly with his large sausage hand, laughing a hearty laugh. Chris winced at the contact and rubbed his shoulder.

"Just haven't had the time," he muttered, scratching out a mistake and writing the correction to the side. He hoped the excuse was good enough to warrant them to leave him alone.

"But Michael tells us that you're practically a rock star with the ladies." Some of the guys jeered at the words that came from Freddy at the other end of the table. "Come on, what's your secret, Holmes?" Michael tried his best to get the group of guys to quiet down, but with a sigh of utter exasperation and annoyance, Chris slammed his notebook shut.

"See you all later." Getting up before anyone could say anything else, he left to walk through the main hall and to the English department, where he quietly slid into the lecture hall and into a seat at the very back. As he sat back and let the quiet murmur of the other students calm him down, a girl at the end of the row smiled and shortly waved at him. Not wanting to be rude, he smiled back politely, but got out his notebook to finish the paragraph he was working on. Without warning, the door slammed open and the professor strode in.

"Today, we're going to start talking about The Canterbury Tales…" The girl twirled a piece of hair with her finger, her piercing gaze burning into the side of Chris's face. He tried his best to ignore her, preferring to attempt to concentrate on what the professor was saying. Before entering university, Chris couldn't get a girl's attention to save his life, no matter how hard he tried. Now all of a sudden, women practically stalked him all over the place and he didn't have to lift a finger.

In his mind, there was absolutely no logical answer for why that was; but then again, women were a huge mystery to him altogether. Maybe it was something in him that he couldn't see himself. Although his ego couldn't help but get stroked at all the attention, his convictions for what he wanted in a woman held him anchored down. She would've had to capture his imagination, his curiosity before she could capture his heart. Because at the end of day, beauty was fragile and fleeting and he was looking for something deeper than what he was seeing around him.

* * *

Her hand could barely keep up. The answer flashed in front of her eyes, if only for a split second and she fought to write it down, pushing the chalk harder against the board. Everyone watched as she drew symbols and numbers, muttering to herself. Finally, at the very corner of the chalkboard, she finished the last number and slammed the chalk down, practically heaving at the effort. The room was eerily silent.

"Well done, Linda." The professor shortly clapped as he walked up next to her to examine her work. "You did excellent." She took a deep breath to calm her trembling hands.

"Thank you, Professor," she breathed, trying to hold back a smile. When it came to any subject, Linda's strength was most definitely mathematics. She could almost write a book about it all. It was her life, the blood that pumped through her veins.

"You can go sit down now. Thank you," the professor told her. With a nod and a glance to some glaring students, she went back to her seat and slowly slid in, taking a deep breath in order to collect her thoughts. Mathematics sometimes made her forget about her surroundings; numbers were much more appealing than what was going on outside in the real world, at any rate. What could possibly be more important, more thrilling, more exciting?

But apparently, some of her classmates didn't agree. She could feel stares from the other students from all sides and had to fight to keep her concentration. Linda supposed that they had reason to be jealous of her ability; she was admitted to university a year early because of it, so she was most likely the youngest in the class at the tender age of seventeen. Age, she was quickly finding out, mattered more than she cared to admit. Thankfully, after a brief lecture, class was dismissed and Linda walked out after the mass of students, quickly stuffing a scrap piece of paper with some equations into her bag.

"Linda!" She turned around and saw a tall, gangly looking boy jogging toward her. "That was brilliant what you did in there, truly brilliant!" He held out his hand. "Michael James. I don't think I've ever talked to you before."

"No, you haven't." She shook his hand. "I'm sorry, I'm not so good with meeting people."

"Well, who needs people skills when you've got maths skills like yours?" Michael's face lit up with a huge grin.

"Oh, it was nothing." She waved his compliment away, but smiled all the same. "People act as though I'm some sort of prodigy, but I'm just really good at mathematics is all."

"Well, all the same…" Michael shrugged. "Can I walk you to your next class?"

"Sure." Linda and Michael walked down the somewhat crowded hall, dodging people as they ran by them. Michael occasionally looked as though he was going to say something, but he kept his mouth shut, looking away at random objects or people. After some uncomfortable minutes of silence, they stopped in front of a Chemistry lab.

"This is it." She turned to him with a shy smile. Thank you for walking with me, Michael."

"It's no trouble, no trouble at all, Linda." He paused for a second, looking as though he wanted to say something, but shook his head. "I'll see you on Wednesday," he finally said, turning around to walk away before she could say anything. With a small shrug, Linda opened the door to the Chemistry lab and walked inside.

* * *

Another F.

Chris threw his paper down and rubbed his tired eyes, briefly stopping to look at the large red F that graced the top of his math test. Maths was never his strong point, but an F? His mother would have his head on a platter when she found out. She was always the meddling type. He looked around the small room in which Michael and he lived. Books flowed out everywhere, but there wasn't one book about not to fail a math test anywhere around.

_Chaucer isn't of help at this point,_ he thought bitterly as he laid his head down on the desk.

Suddenly, the door opened and Michael walked into the room, shutting the door behind him and throwing his books down on the bed.

"Hi," Chris said glumly, tossing the test into the bin. Michael's brow furrowed, and then relaxed.

"Another F, huh?"

"When will these universities understand that English and maths don't mix?" Chris groaned, leaning back into his chair and biting down on his knuckles gently. "At this rate, I'll never make it out of here."

"Don't give up, mate." Michael sat up and watched his friend. "Everyone has that one class that drives them nuts. Yours just happens to be maths. Imagine those of us on the other side of the coin. You write poems and papers like it's nothing, but for me it's like drawing blood."

Chris smiled against his fist, and then got serious again. "What am I going to do? If I fail this class, I'm going to be in so much trouble."

"You could always find a tutor. Get some extra help."

"A tutor?" Chris turned around to look at Michael, who was busy looking for something in his bag.

"Well, not me," Michael immediately said, pulling what looked like a bar of chocolate out of his bag. "I've got too much going on already, but maybe you can find somebody in the maths department to help you out."

Chris pursed his lips, and then shook his head. "Maybe, I don't know." He turned back around and got back out his notebook again, putting the pencil on the paper to start writing. He willed himself to write anything, anything at all, but he wasn't finding one shred of inspiration. With a groan of frustration, he tossed his notebook on the desk, got out of the chair and flopped down on his bed on his back, staring at the ceiling. _Maybe it wouldn't be horrible to get extra help,_ he thought to himself as he rolled over to stare at the wall, content to just sulk for a while...


	2. Chapter Two - A Chance Meeting

**Chapter Two – A Chance Meeting**

"Linda, come on! You've been holed up in there all evening doing who knows what," Fran, Linda's roommate, called from across the hall. "Get your head out of the books and live a little, why don't you?"

Linda sat at the desk in their dorm room, rereading the letter that was sitting on the floor when they got back earlier from class.

"I appreciate the offer, Fran," Linda said as she laid the letter down. "But I really am busy."

Fran scoffed, fluffing her large mane of bright-red hair. "Suit yourself, then." She fixed her breasts to look fuller and Linda rolled her eyes; Fran would probably have been more comfortable going out naked than wearing her extremely conservative dress, but for the sake of the hormones of the guys all around them, she put with the bright yellow dress that brought out the flaming color of her bright red hair. "You're really missing out on life, you know."

"I'm sure I'll live," Linda said dryly, opening her textbook to where she left off.

"Seriously." Fran's heels clicked as she walked out of the washroom and back into the room. "Come and take a break. We're just meeting up at the pub, nothing fancy." Fran stared incredulously at her friend as Linda ignored her, starting on a new set of calculations. "Linda, we're at university now!" She spread out her hands to make her point. "We can do whatever we want! We're finally on our own, away from our parents!"

"I'm still underage," Linda reminded her. "I have restrictions."

"But not as much as you had back home. And I know how much you appreciate that…" Fran gave her a knowing look and Linda's eyes drifted back to the letter. "So, who are they setting you up with this time?"

Linda sighed, leaning her head back. "An old family friend's son. He's a doctor," she tried to say brightly, but her face fell back at Fran's noise of disgust.

"They just don't know when to quit, do they?"

"They're my parents. They have every right to care about me." It was more of an automatic statement, filled with just as much emotion as talking about grass growing. Imbedded in her mind, but not quite sitting well elsewhere. It was the truth, though; Linda's parents, Ulysses and Sarah, loved their only daughter and their only wish was to see her well off, with someone of her intellectual level. They constantly set her up with some of the brightest students of her age group, convinced that she wouldn't be happy with someone an inch less than what she was capable of.

Which made her want to tear every shred of hair out of her head.

"But your parents aren't the ones that have to be married to some of these sods." Fran seemed to voicing Linda's deepest conviction. Her lips in a tense line, she started back on her calculations. "What about that boy that walked you to your class last week? Michael, was it? He's pretty smart, he's in the same classes as you."

"He's nice." Linda shrugged nonchalantly.

"But?"

"He's not my type."

"What is even a genius's type anyway?" Fran stood up and walked to the bedside table, putting on her earrings. Linda lightly clenched her fist. "I mean, seriously. I guess you have to go by a different set of code or something compared to us little people."

"I hate that word, genius," Linda muttered. "It's because I'm a 'genius' that I'm being treated as though I'm an idiot." Fran laughed from by her side.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You wouldn't understand…" Linda picked up the letter again. Peter, the doctor, was probably extremely dry and boring, like most of the men Linda had met over the years through her parents. There was no passion, no vision, no emotion with any of the brilliant minds she met; just pure intellect, which wasn't a bad thing, but when the mind became lost and aged, what else was there?

"Look, just come out with me, forget your parents." Fran snatched the letter and tossed it in the bin. "And forget your maths." She closed the textbook in front of Linda roughly. "Numbers won't buy you drinks or dinner."

Linda smirked and opened her book to the page where it was at. "You go on," she said, picking up her pencil to start on her homework again. "Have a great time, and try not to go home with anyone."

"Oh, I would never." Fran winked and walked out of the dorm room. Linda sighed and shut the textbook, her mind back on the letter in the bin. Maybe it was best that her parents were searching for a mate for her. There weren't exactly any suitors beating the dorm room door down at a chance to have a date with her in the first place. It certainly took the stress off of her to sit back while her parents brought her prospects.

At least, that's what she told herself when the pressure was overwhelming her...

* * *

The sounds of the cricket game sounded distant as Chris listened to his narrator tell the story, occasionally looking up to watch some of the guys play and back down to his paper again to write down the word he was looking for. It was a nice day outside on the grounds; cool, with a light wind that gently blew at the pages of the notebook as he wrote. After a few minutes, without warning, Michael plopped down beside him, panting and guzzling down a cup of water.

"You know," he panted shortly, dabbing his face with his shirt. "You should join us for a game or two."

"You know I would be a hindrance more than a help," Chris said dryly as he crossed out a line.

"With some practice, you could get really good, you know."

"I doubt that." Michael chuckled and rubbed his shoulder, looking over it to see Chris writing furiously.

"What are you writing now?"

"A submission for the campus magazine."

"Is that right?" Finally, Chris was going to start trying to get noticed with his writing. It was about time. "Well, that's great. What is it?"

"It's a crime story." Chris reread shortly over his last paragraph, smiling. "I've been working on it for a while now, just had to get the details right…"

"Sounds right and good, then. How's the search for a math tutor going?"

"It's not," Chris replied, finishing up a line for the murderer. A group of girls passed by them, and Michael smiled, waving at them.

"The girls here are great, don't you think?" Chris looked up at and saw the girl from his English class stopping to wave her fingers at him shyly, and he immediately looked back down.

"I guess so."

"I mean, there's so many of them. It's like…like…." Michael laughed, throwing his hands up in the air. "I can't think of a way to describe it."

"Just call it what it is: a jackpot."

"Exactly! So," Michael turned. "We should get ourselves a couple of dates and go out. Girls love a good poet."

"I don't write poetry for women." Which wasn't exactly the truth. Over the years, Chris wrote many different poems about the girls that he fancied, but he never let them see the light of day. He kept them in a box in his room back home, bidding his time for a day when he could show them to someone who would really appreciate his words.

"Well, I'm sure if you found a girl you really liked, you would write her poems all the time."

Chris shook his head to clear his thoughts of the box. "Maybe," he finally said, closing his notebook and resting his eyes. It was almost completely finished; after three years of designing, redesigning and rewriting almost everything, his story was almost complete and he was really submitting it for others to read. A big step, but it was time to show what he could do.

"So, how about this," Michael said, sounding as though he was trying to tread carefully. Chris opened an eye to look at him. "I have in mind a girl I would like to ask out. I'll see if she has a friend and we can have a double dates of sorts."

"Michael-"

"Come now, Chris, just this once."

Chris closed his eye again and relaxed. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea; it was just one little date, what harm could it do? "Just this once. Now, if you'll excuse me…" He got up suddenly and slung his bag over his shoulder, walking back toward the university.

* * *

"Oh, bloody hell..." Linda swore under her breath as she walked down the open corridor, balancing the newest set of textbooks for her added classes in her arms. There was going to be no such thing as a life with all the extra work that she had signed herself up for, but it wasn't as though anything exciting was happening in her life anyway, so why not take the extra time to study and get ahead? She made a mental note to write her parents and let them know of the change to her education plans-

Without any warning, something painfully collided with her and she dropped all the books, her body throbbing with the ache of the hit.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," the man politely said, leaning down and starting to gather and stack her books. Irritated with not only herself, but the stupid stranger, she got down as well to pick up some of the smaller books that had tumbled away. "I can be so clumsy."

"It's fine," she muttered, trying her best to hide her annoyance with him, but as she reached out for a book, his hand landed on hers and their eyes met. It felt as though someone had stuffed cotton balls in her mouth as she stared at him. His eyes...they were a deep hazel color, with just a hint of green along the edge of the irises. She had never seen someone, especially not a man, with such a unique set of eyes. They were...almost beautiful to look at. She felt her throat close up as those eyes swept her face, seeming to take in every little detail. Clearing her throat, she felt her voice quake.

"It's completely...wholly...absolutely fine." The last word came out in a quiet breath, and she felt her cheeks blaze with embarrassment at her open and mindless gawking. She wasn't some dewy-eyed schoolgirl anymore, but a mature woman and yet, within a few seconds of meeting eyes with a, quite frankly, attractive stranger, she was a blubbering mess. He must've noticed that she was uncomfortable because he pulled his hand back, also seeming a little taken aback himself. Quickly, she gathered her books and stacked them again, pulling herself up to her feet.

The man looked at the last of her books that was in his hand and his eyebrows rose.

"Econometics," he read slowly, his brows furrowing in thought. "I'm sorry to say I've never heard of it." He set the book gently on top of the stack in her arms.

"Oh," Linda said before she could stop herself. "It's a fascinating subject. It's built on a basic understanding of linear regression and statistical theory to create econometic models and anaylze economic history, even going so far as to be used to create an economic forecast. It-" she trailed off at the man's wide-eyed expression. "It...actually, now that I think about it, it isn't all that fascinating." She felt her cheeks suddenly blaze in embarrasment, but as much as she tried to make herself stop talking, she felt like her mouth was on autopilot and completely overidding her entire nervous system. "Oh what am I saying; it would put most people in a right sleep. Regression anaylsis can be a rather dry matter to work with-"

_SHUT UP LINDA!_

She stopped talking, feeling incredibly humilated by her senseless babbling. As the man stared at her, looking so utterly lost, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. He opened his mouth and shut it again.

"Well...that all sounds...interesting," he said with a slight smile. "It certainly sounds more complicated than Beowulf."

"I'm sorry, who?"

He chuckled softly and the deep rumbling sound made her hair slightly stand on end. "Never mind. Can I help you walk to where-"

"I can manage," she said before he could finish, and she took that as her cue to leave, walking past him with a whoosh. As she walked across the grounds, she finally felt her face stop burning and she sighed in relief. Thankfully, she didn't recognize him from any of her classes; hopefully, she would be rid of the embarassing memory and never see him again.


	3. Chapter Three - The Date

**Chapter Three – The Date**

"So, what do you think?" Michael smiled nervously, shifting his bag on his shoulder as he stood in front of Linda, who was stone still and silent. "You can bring a friend, and I'll bring my friend that way it won't be so…umm…awkward, I guess."

Someone was actually asking her out. Her. And it wasn't a forced set-up by her parents. Unless it was, and she didn't know. But Michael didn't fit what her parents wanted; there was no way they could've been involved.

That meant that he asked her out willingly on his own...

"Umm…" She paused. Michael looked so much like he wanted her to say yes, but she just couldn't. If any word got back to her parents about her going out with somebody they didn't know, they would positively lose their minds and she could say goodbye to any hopes of coming back next term.

But as she started to open her mouth to say no, Fran's words from a couple of nights before came back to her mind. She was at university, on her own. Her parents didn't have to know about one simple date. What harm could be done? A thrill of excitement and worry went through her as she opened her mouth again.

"Sure." A simple word sealed it. "I've got a friend that I could ask to come with me."

"Great!" He clapped his hands together. "So, we'll meet outside the pub tonight at 7:00!" She smiled and nodded. "Fantastic! See you tonight!" Turning around, he practically skipped down the hall before rounding the corner. Ignoring the pit of worry that had built up in her stomach, Linda turned around and walked the opposite direction.

* * *

Rejected.

The word made Chris even madder as he stalked across campus, shoving anyone and anything he could out of his way. The editor took one look at his story and gave it back, telling him that it wasn't what the magazine was looking for and to try again later. After years of work, he still was being told no and it was still just as maddening to hear as the first time. Ignoring the strange looks he got from other students as he went through the halls, he stormed back to the dorm room and slammed the door behind him.

Laying on his bed, he put his pillow over his face, willing himself to calm down. Once again, he was back to being unknown. What in the world was it going to take to get noticed? What if he never did? No, he would. He wasn't a quitter. When he wanted something, wild horses couldn't stop him from getting it.

And by God, he wasn't going to back down.

But until then, he was going to sit and sulk for a bit.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Get your good clothes on, we've got dates tonight!" Michael practically sang as he came into the room, throwing his bag on his bed. "She said yes! I can't believe it!" He spun around in delight, ripping open some drawers that were at the end of his bed to start looking through the piles of clothes that sprung out. After a few seconds, the pillow flew from Chris's face and Michael hovered over him, smiling a smile that was a mile long "And she's got a friend," he elaborated in his sing song voice.

"Delightful. Give her friend my apologies." Chris started to turn around on his side, but Michael pulled him back to lay on his back.

"No, you agreed!" Ignoring the pained groan, he went to his wardrobe and threw the doors open, picking through his clothes. "You're coming out tonight, whether you like it or not."

"I'm really not in the mood-"

"I don't care, you're not about to ruin my chances with one of your mood swings."

"I don't have mood swings," Chris muttered, turning to his side and huddling into a small ball.

"Yes, you do," Michael called as he crossed the hall to go to the washroom. "You better be up and getting ready by the time I get back!"

"Who are you, my mother?" Chris called to empty space and with a soft curse, he got up and went to his drawers, starting to look through his clothes for a decent shirt.

* * *

"Hi," Fran called from her bed as Linda walked in. "How was class?" She erased a mistake on her paper.

"Umm…interesting." She sat down on her bed across from Fran. "Are you by any chance free tonight?"

Fran stopped writing and looked up slowly. "Why?"

"I was just wondering."

"No, you were asking, meaning you've already wondered about it."

Linda fidgeted nervously.

"What did you do?" Fran asked.

"Why do you always assume I did something?"

"Seriously. What did you do?"

"I…Michael, that boy from my class asked me out for tonight. And he said he had a friend, so we could double date."

Fran's face fell at Linda's nervous hopeful smile. "I'm busy," she said, looking back down to her homework.

"Oh, Fran, please come! You just gave me a speech about me being away from my parents and doing what I want! I'm doing what you said, I just...need some support. Please?" Linda pouted and Fran pulled her paper up to read it, blocking her view. She needed Fran to come; how was she going to convince her?

Finally, with a long and thoughtful sigh, she pursed her lips.

"I'll do your homework for you."

"His friend better be good-looking," Fran muttered, slamming her book shut to get up and go to the wardrobe. "And find something decent to wear." she sneered distasteful at Linda's clothes."I can't be seen with some old woman."

Linda laughed and got up to open her drawers. She knew that she had that blue dress somewhere.

* * *

"Now, just please don't embarrass me," Michael told Chris as they stood outside the pub, nervously looking every direction he could.

"I think you're more than capable of doing that on your own." A droll stare met Chris's lazy statement.

"I'm serious. You've got a knack for it, whether you realize it or not."

Rolling his eyes, Chris leaned back against the wall and went back to observing the people around him. A woman wearing a mink coat walked loudly down the sidewalk, swinging her bag and hips and a sudden idea struck him; drawing a small notepad out of his pocket and a pencil, he quickly took note of the woman's appearance. She would make the perfect victim for his murderer-

"There they are."

Coming toward them were two women, one tall and long-legged with a seemingly large chest and bright red hair and a smaller woman, who looked like a delicate doll compared to her friend. Chris slowly lowered his notebook. The red head was the loud and boisterous type, he could tell, but her friend was quite the opposite...

_Wait,_ he thought to himself. _That's the girl I bumped into a few days ago._

And indeed it was. Her pale blue dress conformed beautifully to her curves, highlighting the electric blue of her eyes and the shimmer of her long blonde hair, which rained in waves and curls down the front of her shoulder. Chris felt himself stand a little taller, suddenly self-conscious and a tad bit worried. What if she was meant to be his date? What if she didn't like him? What if he said or did something stupid; what if, what if, what if? But his fears suddenly ceased as Michael walked up and offered his arm to her. If he didn't know better, he could swear he felt his spirit droop.

"Chris," Michael startled him out of his thoughts. "This is Linda and…"

"Fran." Fran grabbed Chris's hand, shaking it slowly. "Nice to meet you," she purred, winking. With a sharp tug, he pulled his hand away, rubbing it on his pants.

"Pleasure," he said tightly, looking to Linda who tentatively offered her hand to shake. As he took it, he couldn't help but notice how delicate her grip was, her skin just as soft as he remembered. "Nice to meet you," he murmured, a smile twitching at the corner of his lip. She swallowed and pulled her hand away slowly.

"Let's go in, shall we?" Michael said as he held the door open for the ladies, with Chris following them inside. They were all shown to a small booth and sat down with menus. Linda was a very nervous person, Chris noticed as he watched her study her menu, chewing her bottom lip. Her eyes met his, and he smiled, making her cheeks blush a light pink as she returned his smile quickly, lowering her eyes again. The waiter came and took their orders, leaving everyone to stare at each other in awkward silence.

"So, Chris," Fran loudly said after a few seconds. "What are you studying?"

"English," he said simply. Linda tilted her head, looking slightly intrigued.

"Are you a writer?" She asked, her voice floating to his ears like gentle music.

"He is, and he's a really good one, too," Michael interrupted Chris, looking at Fran. "Going to be in the campus magazine and everything."

Chris looked down at his lap, his lips in a tight line.

"And how about you then, Michael?" Fran asked.

"I'm a maths major, like Linda," he said, smiling shortly at Linda who smiled weakly back at him.

"Oh, so are you a genius, too?" Chris's head snapped up at the word 'genius'.

"No, no," Michael chuckled. "No, I'm just an ordinary student."

"Well, that's all good and right then…so, Chris." Fran looked to Chris again and he held back a groan. "You're going to be published in the campus magazine, eh?"

"No, actually. I got rejected," he said tightly, looking to watch an older couple argue fiercely on the other side of the restaurant.

"Wait, you didn't tell me that." Michael sounded shocked. "Why did they reject it?"

"It was hardly the time to talk about it, Mike," he said, turning his head to face his friend. "You were too busy dragging me out against my will." The table fell silent at Chris's very stoic words. Michael laughed a loud and humorless laugh.

"What are you talking about? I didn't drag you out against your will." He looked to Linda, who was holding back a smile. "Seriously, I didn't."

"Lying to your date is not the best way to get the night started-" a sharp kick to Chris's shin made his last words lost, and he hissed out a curse, making Linda blush and Fran's eyes widen.

"He's such a kidder!" Michael said loudly to draw the attention of the woman back to him. "Such a comedian! Oh, Chris what would I do with you?" He said through his teeth.

"I'm sure you would be absolutely lost." Chris rubbed his shin tenderly.

"Hardly." Linda pursed her lips, holding back a slight giggle at the boys' arguing. Poor Michael looked as though he was going to faint from so much embarrassment. But she could tell from Chris's sly wink in her direction that he got a huge kick out of making Michael look like a fool. Holding back a grin, she looked to Michael and asked him about the homework, helping him to recover from Chris's tease.

* * *

"Come now, Mike, I hardly embarrassed you."

The men walked into the room and Chris ignored the sharp stare at his back.

"Are you serious? You made me look like an idiot!" Michael exclaimed.

"Oh, you're overreacting-"

"Don't you start." Michael pointed at Chris. "Don't. You know perfectly well you did that on purpose."

"Yes, because I really have all the time in the world to think about how best to ruin your date." With a sweep past Michael, Chris flopped on his bed and opened his notebook again, picking up his paragraph where he last left off. He slowed down as he felt Micheal's stare get more intense and finally stopped to look up at him. "Look, if it'll make you feel better, I'll go and find Linda tomorrow and clear things up."

For a second, Michael looked suspicious and then his face softened. "You'd do that?"

"Yes, of course."

"Okay, thanks..." Michael sighed and sat down on his bed, shaking his head. "So you didn't like Fran at all?"

"Do you really have to ask me that?"

"No," Michael chuckled softly. "You looked like you'd be more excited watching linoleum curl."

"Ah, you understand me." Chris smirked, looking up to Michael from his notebook.

"Barely." The boys shared a chuckle and Michael laid back to give Chris some silence to finish his work.


	4. Chapter Four - In the Library

**Chapter Four - In the Library  
**

The numbers weren't making sense.

Linda looked from book to book, equation to equation, numbers to numbers, trying furiously to find the answer in the piles of open books scattered across the table. She was pretty sure that she looked like a crazy scientist, her blonde hair in wild curls all over her head as she tried to figure out how best to solve the problem presented to her. But she didn't care; mathematics was the only subject that could drive her that up the wall with both frustration and excitement. She backed away and held her hands together, putting them in front of her lips.

She had seen another book on the way to her table that most likely could've helped her...with a swift turn, she began to backtrack toward the front.

* * *

Chris opened the library door and smiled at the elderly librarian behind the desk, who smiled back as she waved at him. As he started to stride toward the back of the room, where all of the classic works were shelved, he was intercepted by a familiar face.

"Hi, Chris." The girl from his English class -what in the world was her name?- put down a pile of books she was filing, nervously putting her hands behind her back and looking up at him from her small stance.

"Hi..." he trailed off, racking his brain to see if he had her name stored somewhere in his memory. Nothing. Damn.

"What brings you here?" She leaned against a shelf, twirling her hair with her finger.

"Oh, you know...just browsing." He looked around for a distraction, but the library was pretty much abandoned and utterly still and silent.

"Well, if you need any help, you know where to find me." She motioned to the rack of books she had yet to file. "I'll be here for awhile..."

"Yes, well...I'll just...be off then." He walked past her, but stopped again at her voice.

"Listen, I was wondering, maybe sometime when you're not busy, we could...go out and maybe get a drink or something?" He turned back around to answer her, but his words failed him. Behind her, down by the end of the shelf, a familiar blonde was pulling a book from the stack that was yet to be filed and quickly walked away, scanning through the pages and muttering to herself.

"Umm..." His eyes followed Linda until the shelf blocked his view. "You know, I'm...just...I'm sorry, I don't have time really." He looked back to the girl, whose face had fallen. "Chaucer, he really...really knows how to take up your time and...everything. Long book..." He finished weakly, clearing his throat and looking down at his feet. Maybe Michael's teases about him being awkward had some truth to them after all.

"Oh..." a bright pink colored her cheeks. "Well, that's all right. Ummm..." She turned around abruptly and went back to filing. Chris felt a slight twinge of guilt, but quickly suppressed it as he followed the general direction of where Linda found her standing over what looked like a mountain of books, crazily looking from one to the next. Now was his opportunity to talk to her...and have some fun. She didn't look like the type that was used to having fun, anyway; a little wouldn't kill her.

* * *

"What the hell am I missing?" She hissed quietly to herself.

"Hello," a deep rumble said by her ear. Turning around with her hands on her mouth to stop her scream, she saw Chris standing a few inches away, a sly playful smirk on his face.

"Oh, dear God, you scared me," she breathed out, hitting his arm to hide her shaking. Playfully, he winced and rubbed the spot where she hit him.

"My apologies," he said softly, chuckling. She took a deep breath and turned back around to read again, her racing heart thundering in her ears. "You looked as though you were about to crawl on the table."

"Well...if you were doing this, you would probably crawl on the table, too." He leaned over her shoulder to look at the calculations that littered the table.

"Exhilarating," he murmured dryly as he took a seat in a chair. "Never had to get this intense with a paper."

"How good for you." Running a hand through her hair, she sat down in her chair. "So, what brings you here on this fine morning?"

"Well, originally, it was Shakespeare. But I saw you and I thought I would just give you a little fright."

"How thoughtful of you," she said sarcastically, making him smirk.

"Actually," he said in a more serious tone. "I came over to talk to you about last night. I promised Mike I would…clear things up and try to rectify for my heartless comments."

"Oh." With a nod, Linda smiled. "You know, if I'm not mistaken, you looked as though you were enjoying making him squirm." His lips broke into a huge grin, which made him look more like a child than a man.

"I consider it a sport in a way," Chris agreed. "He usually handles it well. Years of practice has grown on him."

"Years?"

"Mike and I met in primary school, where we both had a serious dilemma." His face turned serious. "I was horrible at maths and he couldn't write a sentence to save his life. So, he did my fractions worksheet and I wrote his haiku." He shrugged. "Match made in heaven. We've been friends every since."

"Good to know he's not too caught off guard when you do things like what you did last night to him," Linda said, laughing softly.

"'It's all in good fun, he's like a brother to me," Chris said fondly. "But in all seriousness, last night, I was..." his finger tapped the table and he looked up as he thought about his words. "...out of line and I apologize. If he asks for a second date, please don't turn him down, I'll never hear the end of it." Linda snorted back a laugh.

"You're forgiven," she said, standing up to turn back to her worksheet. She hoped that Chris didn't notice her ignoring the part about Michael asking her out for a second date. He seemed pleased with her answer, and quietly pulled out a book out of his bag, opening it to the first page. A piece of paper fell out and he suddenly remembered the math set that he had yet to do (he had been using it as a bookmark). With a wince, he shut his book and opened the paper. It was empty, per usual. He was about to toss it in his bag, but he suddenly remembered Fran's words from the night before.

Linda was good at maths.

He looked up at her as she stood, her brow furrowed and her hands placed in front of her mouth again.

"You're good at maths," he said, distracting her from her thinking. "Could you help me with something?" He showed her the worksheet.

"Oh, this is easy," she sounded a tad bit relieved at the set of problems he presented to her. She took her pencil, sat down next to him and started to work out the problems. "See, it's all about ratios," she muttered, her hand moving at lightening speed all around the paper. Chris stayed stone still as she worked, trying to hide his surprise at how fast she finished the entire set.

"No wonder your friend Fran called you a genius last night," Chris said, looking at the worksheet, which was full of her large, curvy calculations.

"She didn't call me a genius," she said, leaning back in her chair. "She asked Michael if he was a genius, if I recall correctly."

"In which it took all I had not to laugh at the absurdity of the question," Chris replied drolly, which made Linda roll her eyes. "But I meant indirectly she called you that." He watched her from the corner of his eye as she stared at her lap. For a long time, she didn't respond to his statement. There was that word again, genius.

"Some would say I'm a genius," Linda finally admitted.

"But what would others say?" She looked at Chris, who was watching her closely.

"Others?"

"'Some' implies that there's another group that says something different. So what do others say?" Her face quickly showed annoyance at his question.

"Do you always do this?"

"Do what?" He sounded so innocent.

"Psychoanalyze what people say. Maybe I meant what I said, and that's all, why do you have to twist it?" He looked at her like she had sprouted two heads.

"Even if you meant exactly what you said, you're still missing what others say." It was so obvious to him, what was so hard for her to understand about that? A groan came from her lips and her head dropped in her hands.

"My God, I can see why Michael gets frustrated with you," she muttered into her palms. But she could tell Chris wasn't going to let it go. So...why not turn the tables on him? If he wanted to play games, she would indulge him. "Okay, well, you're 'others'; what would you say?" Linda leaned her head onto her hand, watching him with a smug expression.

"About you?" She nodded. Let's see if his verbal repertoire would be able to get him out of that, she thought. "I would say you're Linda." She blinked, as though she didn't hear him right.

"What?"

"Genius is a label, not a name. Labels are temporary; they can change as time goes on. But when you name something, you take possession of it. It becomes more real, more permanent. I don't see labels; I see names. At the end of the day, you're Linda and that's all." He leaned back, crossing his arms to watch her. She stared at him, waiting for him to say he was kidding, but he looked completely serious, not a trace of sarcasm on his face.

"I..." She shook her head. "I don't know what to say to that."

"Oh, and I was just starting to have fun." Chris winked, which made Linda scoff. So much for being serious. He stood to his feet. "Well, anyway, I've talked to you and now everything is okay. Have fun on your second date with Michael."

"How do you know he's going to ask me out again?"

"He really likes you," Chris said, shrugging his bag onto his shoulder. "He's a good guy, you should give him a chance...without me around to embarrass him," he added as an afterthought, making her chuckle.

"You said it yourself: he would be lost without you."

"I know, but let's not tell him that, eh?" He held out his hand. "It was a pleasure talking to you, Linda." Slowly, she took his hand and shook with him. He started back toward the door and for a split second, Linda told herself not to do it. Just leave him alone. But she turned around in her chair.

"Chris," she said to his back. "If you ever need anymore help with your maths, just come find me." He looked at her over his shoulder, her breath catching in her throat again at his thoughtful stare.

"I'll keep that in mind," he finally said with sincerity. She watched him as he walked to the door and out of the library, scoffing at the absolute absurdity of their conversation. Chris was certainly unique from every man she had ever known. He was quick on his feet with words. They came naturally to him, like numbers came naturally to her. If she didn't know better, she would've thought he designed that conversation just so he could get a rise out of her. If he did, he got what he wanted; she rose up to his verbal challenge without a second thought. But it was nice to finally get some push back from someone, to challenge her on how she saw not just everyone around her, but in essence, herself. Even if it didn't make sense to her right away.

She sat down again and started back on her homework, the thoughts of Chris immediately disappearing in the mountains of numbers again.


	5. Chapter Five - In the Courtyard

**Chapter Five - In the Courtyard**

"Oh, come on," Chris muttered, scratching out line after line of his narrator's dialogue. The story wasn't panning out the way he wanted and it was getting frustrating. "Why did you have to go and change your mind?" He talked as if his narrator was sitting right next to him, mocking him for being so immature about changing the plans of the story. "I swear, I don't know why I work with you-"

The door to the dorm room slammed open and Michael charged in, pointing an accusing finger in Chris's direction.

"You horse's arse!"

The sharp insult cut across the still air of the room. Chris blinked, his pen hovering over a period.

"Hello to you too?"

"Chris, you have a lot of explaining to do for this one," Michael said, sitting down on his bed and folding his arms.

"I suppose I do." Chris shut his notebook and sat up, crossing his legs. He took a deep breath, looking down then he looked back up. "It was horrid, I had to redo it."

"Of course you would say that- wait, what?" Michael's face turned from blazing anger to bewilderment. "What are you talking about?"

"Your paper on Robert Burns. I know I told you it was okay, but I couldn't let you hand it in, it was terrible. So I rewrote it when you were asleep and switched them out. Don't worry, I made sure to include stupid mistakes that you would make on a real paper."

Michael huffed, blinking furiously.

"Wha-how-oh never mind, I'm not talking about my damn paper, I'm talking about Linda! She turned me down when I asked her out again just now." Michael's shoulders slunk at the memory.

"And I'm a horse's arse for that? I apologized to her." Chris looked up to Michael's droll stare. "Seriously, I did," he said, feeling a twinge of irritation starting to set in.

"Then why did she turn me down?"

"Do I look like Linda's keeper? Why not ask her?"

"She said it was complicated."

"And you just assumed going off of that extremely vague explanation that it was my fault? Your reasoning skills need work." Chris looked down to his notebook again. If he could just get his narrator to agree-

"Well, you were the one that made me look like a giant arse at dinner."

Chris slammed his notebook shut, tossing it against the wall and sat up, facing Michael.

"Look, I apologized in the library yesterday. I gave her a fright, I told her I was wrong and she forgave me." He stopped, remembering suddenly that Linda never answered the second part of his speech: to not turn Michael down if he asked her out again.

Damn, that part slipped past him.

"I know that look." Michael eyed him suspiciously. "What did she say?"

"It's what she didn't say, actually," Chris said slowly.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Chris said after a couple of seconds of silence. He leaned back to lie on the pillow. "Besides, there's plenty of other girls around campus to ask out. If I recall, you called this place a jackpot not a week ago."

"I guess so…" Michael leaned back to lie down. "Maybe we wouldn't have worked out anyway. She's a genius, after all and I'm just Mike. I suppose she's too brilliant to be seen with me."

"If that's the case, then I should've dumped you a long time ago," Chris teased.

"Shut up." Michael's pillow went flying across the room and landed on Chris's stomach.

"But in all seriousness, Mike," Chris tossed the pillow back. "Just let it go. Linda is one of many women at this university and in this world. You'll find someone you really like."

"So will you, Chris…" Michael yawned and soon, his snores reverberated off of the walls.

Chris scoffed, but hid a small smile at his friend's words, immediately thinking of Linda. It was wrong, but at the same time, it wasn't wrong to like her. She wasn't Michael's girlfriend, or really anything. It was perfectly okay to admire her...to talk to her...maybe pursue her, even...Chris sighed and settled down into the pillow, relaxing as sleep overtook him.

* * *

"You're barking."

Linda looked up to Fran, who was looking at her with an expression of exasperation. "You turned him down?"

"I can't go out with him again." Linda stretched her neck, wincing at the pain of the tension. "It's nothing personal; I just can't."

"But your parents would go mad out if they found out you went out with someone oooooooordinary," Fran droned. "Are they afraid of ordinary people or something?"

"In a way, I think so," Linda admitted, going back to the set of problems on the table. The memory of turning Michael down was uncomfortable, but it was a case of the lesser of two evils. Fran just didn't understand the expectations, the reputation that was on Linda's shoulder to maintain.

"Oh, here comes his friend." Fran immediately began to ruffle her hair and Linda turned around to see Chris making long, smooth strides across the courtyard to where they sat.

"Hello, Fran. Linda." Chris sat down suddenly next to Linda, pinning her with a stare. "If you don't mind, I'd like to talk to you. Alone," he said coldly, barely giving Fran a glance. With a short huff, Fran grabbed her books and bag, muttered a quick goodbye and shot Chris a dark look as she passed. As soon as they were alone, Linda set her pencil down.

"Are you following me?"

"If I was following you, you would know, I'm not exactly quiet." His tone was slightly warmer. "No, I'm here on behalf of Mike."

Linda stiffened, looking back to her worksheet. If she carried the 4, the answer would be…

"Imagine my surprise," Chris's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "when he storms into our dorm room the other day and calls me a horse's arse. Granted, I'm used to him doing that," he said, nodding, "but this time, it's different." Sighing, Linda leaned her head on her hand.

"What did you do to make him so upset?"

"He apparently thought I didn't apologize correctly. I wasn't aware there was a strategy on how to get it done, because he believed that I was the reason you turned him down for a second date."

Linda cleared her throat softly. "It has nothing to do with that."

"Oh, really? Then what is it?"

She held back a smile at his commanding question. He wasn't going to win that easily. "Why should I tell you?"

"I'll find out regardless. I have a way of finding out these things." An ominous tone weighed his words.

"Is that supposed to make me want to tell you?"

"It's supposed to encourage you to tell me. You don't want me making a wrong assumption, do you?"

They stared at each other for a few seconds, each as guarded as the other. But Linda could see that Chris wasn't about to back down; actually, he was looking at her as if he was trying to read the answer somewhere on her. She scoffed and pursed her lips.

"I…have an expectation to uphold in my family."

Chris's brows furrowed together for a few seconds, then a realization dawned on him.

"Oh I see. You turned Mike down because of your parents."

Linda didn't reply.

"So, your parents have control over your love life, even though you're an adult and they're miles away?"

"They don't have 'control' per se-"

"But they do have influence."

She sighed and stood up, trying to think of the words to say.

"Every year since I've been a teenager, my parents have introduced me up to hordes of brilliant men." She turned around. "These men make normal blokes like you look like complete cavemen." Chris frowned. "They're all successful, with secure jobs and all are very good choices for marriage. I'm lucky to even have dinner with some of them."

His eyes swept her face and ever so slowly, his frown turned into a smirk. "And yet, you're thoroughly unimpressed with them." His words were smooth and confident. "What is it, the fact that they bore you half to death with their work? Or maybe they're too immersed with their work to talk to you about what you're really interested in?" Linda folded her arms.

"You're observant; what do you think?"

"I think it's a bit of both."

She felt her lip twitch into a small smile. Maybe he saw more than she thought.

"At any rate," she continued as she sat back down beside him. "That's why I can't go out with Michael again. I can't risk it."

"You mean, getting attached?" He clarified. She nodded. "Why not?"

"Because it can't go anywhere in the end."

"Oh, Linda," Chris chuckled. "You're giving up too easily."

"Giving up on what?"

His mischievous smile told her he wasn't going to answer her.

"All right." She turned her body to face him. "Let's say theoretically, I fall for him. How do I go about explaining that to my parents?"

"Tell them you love him and move on."

She shook her head. "You make it sound so easy."

"To say words is the simple part; it's acting them out that's the hardest part."

She rolled her eyes. "You're doing it again."

"What?"

"Making yourself sound like some mystical deity. Care to explain that bit?"

He looked into the distance and got up suddenly, spinning around to face her.

"How many times do we abuse the word 'love'?" With strong, slow steps, he paced in front of her, placing his hands behind his back. "We as a society love many different things; hell, we even love the idea of love." He stopped. "We throw the word 'love' around like it's a wisp in the wind, but love –real love- is a serious force." Suddenly, Chris got down on one knee in front of Linda, making her freeze and slam her back up against the stone table. They weren't very close, but she couldn't help but feel completely engulfed by his presence. His passion was tangible, real as he spoke the words that flowed out of his mouth. "It's capable of tearing apart kingdoms, bridging gaps; it can even will you to death."

For a split second, she thought she was imagining it, but a quick look down showed her she was indeed being touched. His fingers lightly brushed her hand and wrist. Her skin was hypersensitive to every stroke of his fingers, responding as though she was being zapped by lightening over and over again.

Her mind raced, trying furously to figure out exactly what to do in response to this quite bold move. A part of her wanted to bolt and run as far as her legs could carry her, but she felt her body feeeze and her heart slam against her rib cage as she looked to his very serious gaze.

"If you really, truly love someone, nothing could stop you from being by their side, not heaven, not hell…not even your parents," he finished in a whisper, smiling and suddenly backing away to get on his feet again. Linda fought to catch her breath.

"Where do you come up with all of this?" she finally asked, hoping her voice wasn't giving away how vulnerable, how naked she was feeling.

"I read a lot," Chris said, picking up his bag. "I'll need some help later with my maths; maybe afterwards, I'll show you some of my favorite poetry."

She chuckled softly and rubbed her hands over her face. Dear God, how would she ever survive being alone with him? He was a madman and a half; completely and utterly mental...

Lowering her hands, she shrugged and smiled. "I'll see you in the library tonight, then."

"It's a…maths get together," he finished, winking at her and turning to walk away. Linda slunk against the table and sighed, running a hand through her hair and laughing softly as her heart finally slowed down. Looking back to her worksheet, she tried to finish the problems, but stopped frequently, trying to control her shaky laughter. How could something be so sensual, so raw, yet be so ridiculous at the same time?

"That's just Chris," she finally concluded to herself, giving up on her homework to go back to the dorm room.


	6. Chapter Six - Linger

**Chapter Six – Linger**

The chalkboard was filthy, but with some care, it at least looked passable for teaching maths. Linda washed and dried the board off, proud of her work as the deep green color stared back at her. Perfect. A shuffling from the shelves behind her made her look around.

"All right there, love?" The librarian waddled over with her glasses perched on the end of her fat nose.

"Oh, yes. Thank you very much for loaning me this."

"Oh, no problem. It was gathering dust, anyhow." The librarian moved around her, putting books away. "So what you need it for, if you don't mind me prying?"

"I'm doing some tutoring," Linda replied as she pulled out a box of chalk from her bag.

"Oh, sounds good." The door to the library opened and Chris walked in, completely ignoring the library aide that was trying to get his attention as he passed. The girl looked positively annoyed at the cold contact and stormed off, disappearing to another part of the library.

"Hello there, Mrs. June," he said cheerfully as he set down his bag.

"Christopher, dear." Mrs. June turned around, a jolly tone accompanying her words. "Are you the student tonight?" She asked, looking between Chris and Linda.

"I am," he said, smiling at Linda, who smiled back. "She's teaching me maths. God help me." The librarian laughed, clapping him on the shoulder as she passed.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," she said warmly as she waddled away.

"Look at you, best friends with the librarian," Linda teased after a few seconds. Chris shrugged.

"She's just excited that someone is reading the classics around this place."

"I see."

"I actually brought something to show you-"

"Maths first," Linda interrupted with a slight smile. Chris frowned, but stayed silent all the same and took a seat. "Now, did you bring your set?" She asked sweetly.

"Right here." He pulled it out from his pocket and threw it casually on the table.

"All right then…" Linda opened the paper. "Now, when it comes to the quadratic formula…" She turned around and wrote out the problems on the board...

Three days a week over the next few months, they met in the library, the sessions growing more and more intense as Chris's professor covered new material by the pounds. There was barely any time for fun as she drilled him mercilessly on his sets, ignoring his constant grumbling and complaining. He didn't know how it was possible for someone to push, aggravate, annoy, and charm him all within the same hour, but she succeeded each and every time.

But as much as she was grating on him, he had to admit, his grades were starting to improve under her direction, and even Michael was starting to take notice

"Look at that, a B!" Michael mumbled through a mouthful of rice pudding, looking over Chris's shoulder at the large, red letter that graced his test one morning in the dining hall. "You might just pass this term, after all."

"God forbid." Chris set down the paper, smiling. "By the way, how's the new girlfriend?" Michael had met a girl in one of his classes named Melody, and she was all that he could talk, breathe and think about.

"She's great. Beautiful and smart, but not out of my reach and definitely not being pushed by her parents to marry a genius," Michael noted, looking extremely pleased.

"Ah, the perfect match."

"I'm going to pretend you weren't insulting me."

"Do that." Michael ignored Chris's remark and swallowed the last of his pudding.

"How's Linda doing?" He asked.

"Oh, you know, being Linda." Chris shrugged. "Never let her tutor you, she can be quite the slave driver."

"You like it, though. Otherwise you wouldn't come home smiling after each session." And Michael's words weren't far off from the truth. He hadn't seen Chris smile as much as he did after his tutoring sessions since…well, he had never really seen him that happy at all, and to Michael, that was a good sign.

"Are you suggesting I'm a masochist?"

"No," Michael laughed a hearty laugh, standing to his feet and slinging his bag onto his shoulder. "I'm just saying you like being around her, even if she is torturing you with maths."

"Eh," Chris said slowly, moving his hand. "She's something else, I'll give you that."

"Just be careful not to get attached."

"Me, get attached to Linda?" He scoffed." I'm not the attaching type."

"Said the man that could barely bring himself to depart from a childhood pillow to come to university."

"Oi, watch it," Chris warned, eying Michael's wide grin. "Insult the pillow and you insult me."

"All right, Chris. I've gotta go and meet Melody. See you later." Michael walked off and Chris leaned onto his elbows, looking all around the dining hall. He really should find Linda and thank her. He was destined to fail in maths, and if it hadn't been for her coming and rescuing him from that fate, who knows what would've happened? He got up and grabbed his bag, starting the search to find her.

She wasn't very far away from the the dining hall. In fact, she was in the abandoned library, standing in the back and contemplating a rather long problem written out on the chalkboard, her hands in front of her mouth. Chris strode to where she stood and stared at the board almost white with writing. Just looking at all of those numbers and equations made his head start to ache. He knew better than to even try and address Linda when she was thinking; she always seemed rather snappy when he broke her concentration. With a sweep, she suddenly grabbed the chalk to start writing in the small space that was left in the mess of numbers. Quietly, he took a seat and watched her finish, the chalk clacking and clicking as her hand flew across the board. With a hop, she pulled back and silently looked over her work, a smile spreading across her face.

"Finally," she muttered, turning around and blinking as if she was realizing where she was and who was sitting in front of her.

"Hello there," Chris said politely, holding back a smile at her very light blush.

"Have you been there long?"

"No, I just got here. That was very impressive," he said with a nod toward the board behind her. She looked over her shoulder and shrugged.

"Hardly a challenge." She waved her hand and sat down in a chair. "What brings you here on this fine morning?"

"I came to bring you some good news. Have a gander at this," he replied as he held up the test. She gasped.

"A B! How impressive, Mr. Holmes," she said with a smile. "Looks like my constant mathematics drills got through your thick skull."

"How could it not? I saw numbers everywhere I went for a while."

"Well, now, your mind can take a break."

"If it hasn't imploded and collapsed on itself," he replied drolly.

"I doubt that, you're still walking and talking. Brain's in perfect working order in my opinion."

"Well, thank goodness. But on a more serious note, I wouldn't have gotten this grade if it wasn't for you," he said.

"You worked just as hard for it," she pointed out.

"Under your dictatorship, yes." Linda rolled her eyes, biting back a reply. "But a simple thank you won't do here. I was actually wondering if I could I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?" Chris must've noticed her face fall, because he hastily added. "It's just a thank you dinner."

"A thank you dinner," she repeated suspiciously.

"Yes." _Can you be any more awkward, Chris_, he thought to himself flatly. But as stupid as it sounded, he had to watch what he said. He wasn't about to even utter the word 'date'. After a few tense seconds, her face relaxed.

"Sure," she finally said, trying to hide her nervousness. Dinner couldn't hurt...it was just a thank you, after all...wasn't it?

* * *

It was cold.

It was really cold.

Chris bundled his coat closer to his body, hoping he wouldn't die of hypothermia as he waited for Linda to come out and meet him to go into town. She was probably taking forever to spite him, giving him yet another reason to verbally spar with her.

As he thought about what he could say to her when she came out, she finally emerged, wearing a long grey dress that went slightly past her knees, and what looked like to be a trench coat with her hair in long, bouncy curls all around her head.

"Interesting ensemble there," he said as she turned the collar of the coat up against the cold.

"I like trench coats. Makes me feel mysterious."

"You don't need any help with that. You're a woman; by nature, you're all mysterious."

"And yet, men love us anyway."

"A double-edged sword," Chris said, smiling. "Shall we go?" they walked close together, battling the cold as they walked down the road and into the small town not too far away from the university. They dashed through the small crowds of people into the pub were they first met, thankful for the warmth of the place. After a couple of minutes, they were seated in a small and cozy booth.

"Oi, Mycroft!" A waiter called into the back of the pub. "You've got people!" Suddenly, a very tall and lanky young man dashed over, hastily greeting them and getting their drink orders before leaving again.

"That's a very interesting name," Chris noted. "Never heard that one before."

"It's an old name, mostly a last name though," Linda said, looking at her menu. "We had a Mycroft in the family, way back there in history, though." She looked thoughtful. "That wouldn't be a bad name to bring back to the forefront again. Maybe I'll name my son that." She looked back down to her menu, but slowly looked back up to Chris's intense stare.

"You're joking," he said simply.

"No," she replied with a shrug. "It's a very regal name. And besides, it would stand out. You never know. He might become famous one day or something, and then his name will be known everywhere." Chris laughed.

"If he has half a brain like yours, he certainly will become famous."

"You're too kind." Mycroft came back, and took their orders, leaving just as quickly as he came After a beat of silence, Linda cleared her throat."So, besides poetry, what do you write?"

"I was writing a crime story for a bit, but I'm afraid I'll have to abandon it for now." Chris sighed. "It's not working out like I thought it would. Otherwise, I just write for the sake of."

"What is it about writing that you like so much?" Taking a long sip of water, he thought about her question, trying to come up with the words to answer her, but he decided to make the experience more personal.

"When you do a maths problem, what's it like for you?" he asked after putting his glass down.

"I'm not as accurate with my words like you are."

"You don't have to be. I psychoanalyze remember?" Linda chuckled.

"Well…I guess for me it's like a rush. When I get to working on a problem, I just…go. It's like something other than myself is controlling my hand as I write the answers down. I don't really have to think, I can just go with it and it just works."

"You just answered your own question. The thrill, the adrenaline, it's all there for me, like it is for you." Mycroft returned to the table and left a basket of bread. Linda reached to take a roll, but found her hand in Chris's gentle grip instead. She cleared her throat politely, pinning him with a look, but very slowly, as if trying to gauge her reaction, he moved their hands away from the bread and to the table. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words failed as she stared down at their joint hands. His was so strong, so muscular and rough compared to hers, yet his fingers were so gentle against her skin, like he was purposefully going slow in order to savor the experience. Despite trying to keep a cool exterior, her heart thundered in her ears.

"Chris," she started, trying to put together a sentence.

"You're so beautiful." The whispered statement drowned out quickly over the soft chatter of the restaurant, but she heard it all the same. Roughly she pulled her hand away, shaking her head.

"I knew it," she muttered as her neck and cheeks began to burn. _Linda, how could you be so foolish? _

"My apologies, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable-"

"It's fine, but you need to stop this, Chris."

"Stop what?"

"You know what."

"No, I really don't," he said innocently.

"This." She gestured between them. "I know that you like me, but I can't do...this," she finished.

"You can't do this or you won't do this?" Chris asked, staring at her. Her lips formed a thin line.

"I don't have to tell you the answer to that."

"No, you don't," he agreed after a short pause. She swallowed.

"Besides, it would never work between us."

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you."

"No, I don't," he said with a shrug.

"Well, then, there. That's it." She threw up her hands. "So we should just stop here."

"What if I don't want to stop here? What if I want to keep going and find out where the road leads?"

"You're making it very hard to let you down gently," she finally said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"I'm no stranger to rejection, Linda; you won't be the first girl to tell me no. I guess I just thought that you might..." A pause. "Change your mind."

"I had to turn Michael down; what makes you think you're so special that I would just change my mind for you?" He tried to ignore the pang at her cold words.

"I'm sorry," he said again, not really sure what else he could say. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly nervous that he had done something really wrong.

"I know you're sorry, I just..." she trailed off, knowing that she had to choose her words carefully. As much as a part of her wanted to experience what Chris was offering her, she just couldn't bring herself to move and take a chance. Maybe in another life, in another person's mind, she could've, but not as Linda Gregory. In that moment, she slightly hated herself as she opened her mouth. "Chris, after tonight, I need you to leave me alone." A beat passed before anyone moved. Chris leaned back and sighed. So she wasn't going to budge. Ignoring the jolt in his chest, he cleared his throat.

"I suppose I can get help from someone else."

"Yes, that would be best," she agreed weakly. Mycroft came back and tended to them throughout the short dinner, noticing that while the young couple came in and were very relaxed, they were suddenly extremely tense with each other, barely registering the other one was there. He made it easier for them to end the evening by getting their check quickly and collecting the monies before waving them off into the cold night.

They walked quietly up the road to the university and stopped in front of Linda's dorm. Both of them looked around, trying to think of something to say.

"I'll see you…sometime or another." She turned around to walk up the stairs.

"Linda." She turned around to face him. "Remember what I told you in the courtyard a couple of months ago. About what lengths you will go to when you really love someone." She frowned.

"I don't love you."

"Thank you for that, but I didn't say you did," he teased, a slight smile playing across his face. "I'm just reminding you." She shook her head slowly and turned around, walking up the rest of the stairs and into the building, thankful for the silence.

The cold barely registered into Chris's mind, getting lost amongst the other thoughts racing through it. He was an idiot, a fool. Of course Linda's loyalty would stop her from taking him up on his offer. But he hoped that maybe, just maybe, she would change her mind. Foolish. It was rubbish thinking, but it was the hope he clung to all of this time.

"You did this to yourself, Chris," he told himself as he walked back to the hall where his dorm was. "You knew she would turn you down; you knew she would tell you no. Why are you so surprised?"

_Because_, he answered himself, as he went into the room, ignoring Michael's tired question of where he was, _you're starting to fall in love with her_.


	7. Chapter Seven - So Close

**Chapter Seven - So Close**

After much anticipation, the Christmas holidays had finally arrived. The university dorms emptied of people by the droves, and among them were Chris and Michael, pushing through the crowds to get to the buses that were taking them to the train station.

"How am I going to survive?" Michael called to the skies as he and Chris walked across the grounds to the front of the university. "No Melody for a month...I'm going to go mad."

"You'll be fine," Chris replied.

"Well, you'll be without Anne, so I won't be out of company." Chris walked as if he didn't hear Michael. It had been three weeks since he and Linda spoke, and in that time, he had decided to attempt to move on from her rejection. Anne, the girl from his English class that had been trying to get his attention for months, was the perfect distraction to the sting that he didn't want to deal with. Right on cue, Melody and Anne were skipping across the grounds to meet them. With a squeal of delight, Melody attacked Michael, jumping up in his arms and raining kisses all over his face.

"Oh, Mike, I'll miss you," she cooed sadly as Michael set her down on the ground again.

"We still have the bus ride to the train station. Plenty of time to be together, love." Anne smiled at Melody and Michael's exchange, taking Chris's hand in hers.

"You know what would be lovely, Chris?" She asked as they started to walk together.

"Mmm?"

"If you wrote me a poem before going home so that I have something to remember you by." Chris said nothing for a few moments. Words came so easily to him, yet when it came to writing a poem for Anne, he wasn't sure he if could do it.

"Memories aren't enough?" He finally asked.

"You know what I mean." She clung to his arm, leaning into him as they walked. "I want to show everyone back home what a romantic boyfriend I have."

"Oh, so you want to brag about me?"

"Of course I do," Anne said, stopping him. "You deserve to be bragged about." He smiled, but a draw back of the curtain at a window in the building where Linda's dorm was drew his attention and at the window stood a familiar head of blonde curls looking down on them. Even from a distance, Linda was breathtakingly beautiful as she stared down, the gray light of the winter skies highlighting her form so she was more stark, more noticeable against the darkness behind her. She stood seemingly frozen, her eyes burning into Chris's.

A longing he hadn't felt in days rose up in him. God, he missed her. As much as he tried to forget about her, he knew it was useless. His notebook was bursting at the seams with poems and writings about her, his mind constantly bothering him with new things to say. It was like he was a starving artist that had finally found a muse, and as much as he tried to leave the canvas, something else about her would make him stop and start all over again.

In a sudden sweep, Anne suddenly leaned up and kissed his lips, breaking his train of thought. Though his body responded to her bold advance, his mind was still on Linda, already giving him words to write down whenever he got a chance again. They parted slowly and Anne smiled coyly.

"Come on, we'll be late." With a gentle tug on his hand, he followed her, looking back at the window to get one last glance. But the curtains were already drawn.

* * *

_It was just as well.._

Linda sat down on her bed, sighing deeply. Why did she have to look out the window and why did Chris have to be the one kissing a girl? _There's nothing wrong with that, Linda,_ she reminded herself. _You told him to leave you alone; he did as you asked._ And he had. Almost immediately after their 'thank you dinner', Chris started avoiding her and got himself a new tutor to help him with maths. And of course, he had every right to have a girlfriend. They weren't in a relationship; they were never even together. It shouldn't have hurt to see that scene.

_So why do I feel like someone has punched a hole through my chest?_

With an annoyed sigh at her torn emotions, she got up and finished packing her bags. _Get a hold of yourself, Linda. You've better things to do than get upset over some silly man. _But the more she scolded herself at being childish and sulky, the more she realized just how much it truly bothered her to see Chris moving on.

* * *

Against his better judgement, Chris managed to separate himself from Anne and went to look for Linda, trying to figure out in his mind where she could possibly be in the huge crowd of students that were at the front, waiting on their rides and buses. But it didn't take long to find she was sitting on a bench by herself and quietly gazing out into the vast winter landscape across from the university. her hands in front of her mouth in her characteristic fashion.

"Hi there," he said, smiling as she turned to look at him, her hair falling gracefully over one of her shoulders. In that moment, he felt his breath catch and cleared his throat to try and hide his slip.

"Hello." She looked up at him, a strange mixture of sad and happy in her eyes and smile. "I haven't seen you in awhile."

"I've been busy," he lied, hoping she wouldn't press the issue.

"I'm sure you have." She looked back to the trees across the way.

"Excited to see your family?" Chris just wanted her to talk to him about anything, everything before he wouldn't hear her voice for a month.

"Yes, I suppose so." She pursed her lips. "My parents have set me up with someone to meet already." Chris tried to hide his jealousy at her words. Once again, a man she didn't even care to meet was going to get to spend time with her.

"Oh, that's nice," he finally said. Linda's face fell slightly and she shrugged.

"I guess so." an awkward silence followed "I saw you and that girl outside the window." Linda sounded stiff and tense at her sudden statement. "Wasn't that the girl from the library?" Chris shuffled his feet at the question.

"It's nothing serious." He fought back the urge to elaborate; the less he said, the better.

"Still." She shrugged. "You deserve someone that makes you happy."

"So do you." Chris returned, trying to get her mind off of Anne and onto herself.

"Well, I'm sure I'll get there someday." Linda looked down at her lap.

"You always have a choice on how that part of your life will go, you know." She shook her head, scoffing.

"So you say. But I really don't. I never had a choice. I never will have a choice."

"Linda-"

"Your girlfriend is looking for you," she interrupted coldly, her face dead serious. "I don't want to keep you." Chris sighed, turning around at the sound of Anne's voice calling his name.

"Chris, the bus is filling up. We need to go."

"I'm coming," he said, looking one time at Linda, who refused to meet his gaze. "See you after holiday." She turned her back to him, swinging her legs over the side of the bench. With a deep sigh, he turned and walked back toward Anne, who was looking over his shoulder.

"Who was that?" Anne asked.

"An old friend of mine."

"She looked familiar..." Chris took her hand and pulled her with him. "She didn't look very happy to see you." Chris set his jaw.

"She has a lot on her mind." They climbed onto the bus and sat in front of Michael and Melody, who were passionately kissing behind them.

"Oh, well, at least I won't have to worry about her stealing you from me," Anne joked, seemingly oblivious to Chris's tense glare. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him brazenly. "I love you," she whispered against his lips and he quickly kissed her back, refusing to give her a chance to wring the words out of him. There was only one person that he could ever see himself accepting those words from and also, could see himself uttering them back to her. He tried to push Linda to the back of his mind, letting his body enjoy the attention...at least for the moment.

* * *

Shortly after Chris left Linda sitting, Fran came and sat next to her, following the harsh and pained glare that Linda was giving toward the couples' backs, who were holding hands and talking as they walked to the bus.

"Got himself a girlfriend, eh?"

"And she adores him." Linda threw up her hand. "Just what he needs. A lovesick puppy to feed that overbearing ego of his." She spat the last few words, trying to ignore Fran's look of surprise at her tone.

"No, Linda, you're not bitter, not bitter at all," Fran teased, trying to get Linda to smile. But her scowl only deepened. "Look, I know you're upset, but you turned him down."

"Thank you for the reminder," she bit out.

"It's okay for you both to date other people, you know-" Fran trailed off, feeling sorry for her friend who was sitting looking as though her heart was being stomped on.

"I'm sorry I ever met him," Linda mumbled.

"No, you're not. You've never been happier than when you were around Chris." Linda said nothing. "I might be bold here, but I think he's ruined you for other men in a sense. In the back of your mind, you'll always be comparing your dates to him. He has made it really hard for guys after him; they'll always have a bar set against them." Fran wrapped a comforting arm around her friend. "But you never know, you might like Peter. Aren't you supposed to meet him over holiday?"

"Yes, but still..."

"Just give it a chance. Do yourself a favor and try to forget about Chris, at least for a while." With an affectionate squeeze, Fran stood up. "My bus is here. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"You too." Linda watched Fran board the bus and looked back toward the empty field, hoping deep down inside that she could try to take Fran's advice about forgetting Chris. But she had a feeling that it was going to be harder in practice than in theory. She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and looked it over, smiling briefly at the scribble of words on the page. Even though she had never given much thought to what she wanted in a partner, Chris's friendship had left an impression on her. Perhaps one day, she would by some random stroke of luck find someone with the qualities that she admired in him.

_But would you be able to look at that man without trying to compare him to Chris?_

She sighed at herself yet again. _Why am I so confused?_

_Because you're starting to fall in lo-_

She shook the thought from her mind. "Don't be ridiculous, Linda; you don't love him," she said to the empty space around her. "My God, you barely know him. Besides, it would never work between you two, remember? You discussed that at dinner," she tried to remind herself as a car slowly pulled up to the curb and the window rolled down.

"Ms. Gregory," Timothy, the family driver called to her. "Are you ready to go, ma'am?"

"Yes." Linda picked up her bags and climbed into the car, staring quietly out the window as the car drove along the bleak and snowy roads. Even though she told herself that she was going to forget about Chris Holmes, she had a distant feeling that she was about to lose the war before it even began.


	8. Chapter Eight - Brotherly Advice

**Chapter Eight - Brotherly Advice**

"Chris, put that notebook down, you haven't left it since you've been home." Chris's older brother Aaron complained from by the coffee table, where he was playing an intense game of chess with Henry, one of Chris's other older brothers.

"Leave him be, I'm enjoying his silence," Henry joked as he moved his queen. "Checkmate." Aaron groaned, muttering a curse.

"I almost had you."

"No, you didn't." Henry leaned back in his chair, admiring the board. "Too easy."

"If Chris got up to play, he would put you in your place real fast," Elijah, another brother, called lazily from the desk as he studied a map laid out before him.

"Oh, yeah? Well, then why doesn't he come over here and show me his skills?"

"I'm busy," Chris muttered, scratching out another line on the page in irritation. It had been a few days since he arrived at his childhood home in the countryside to celebrate the holidays with his family, and, true to Aaron's words, he had yet to leave his notebook alone. But he was on a mission: Anne asked him for a poem, and though he couldn't indulge her before they all left from the train station, he promised her he would write one over Christmas.

But nothing was coming to his mind. He leaned his head back, resting his tired eyes from the effort of constant writing and brainstorming.

Henry got up and walked to the chair where Chris was lounging with his legs thrown over the arm. The notebook suddenly disappeared from his hands and Henry started to flip through it. "Someone's been busy, this thing is chock full." Immediately, Chris got up and reached for it, but Henry held it up high above his head, his long, trunk-like arms towering over them.

"Give that back," Chris said tightly, trying to refrain from punching Henry in the gut.

"Why should I?"

"I mean it, Henry. Give it back." Henry reached higher.

"Come on, reach, baby brother," he taunted. Just like old times, Chris thought to himself. Henry could never resist giving him a harder time than the other three brothers. Perhaps it was because Chris was the youngest of the bunch and was considered a weak target, or maybe it was because Henry's simple mind couldn't stand to tease two people at once. Whatever the reason, Henry was a class A bully in his own right. He may have had the anatomy of a bear, but he also had the brain of a brick.

As Chris opened his mouth to give Henry a well-deserved theoretical, philosophical verbal slap, Aaron got between them.

"Boys, stop this." The peacekeeper and voice of reason of the brothers, Aaron was always the first to try to break up a fight. Peace and goodwill toward all men, that was his motto; it made Chris want to gag. "If you two start something, Mum will have both of your heads." Knowing he was right, Henry scowled and offered the notebook back. Chris grabbed it quickly, flopping back down in the big red armchair he abandoned.

Elijah walked away from the desk and sat down in Aaron's empty chair. Out of all of his brothers, Chris got along the easiest with Elijah. He wasn't the warring or the peace-keeping type, but was more of an observer of the madness around him. Chris sometimes wondered how he managed to keep his sanity after years and years of listening to fights, but he seemed to pay no mind to what was going on around him most of the time

"Is Rudy coming?" Elijah asked quietly, trying not to be overhead by Ruth, the boys' mother, who was in the kitchen bustling around.

"No," Aaron sighed, sitting down on the floor next to Chris's chair. "I tried to talk to him about coming, you know, with you and Chris being home and all." He nodded toward Chris. "But he said he was busy."

"Christmas won't be the same without him," Henry said, earning a grunt of agreement from each of the men around him. Diplomatic and no nonsense, Rudy, the eldest of the five Holmes brothers, was the backbone of the family after their father abandoned them as children. He kept all of them in line, but seemed to grow tired of his overbearing role and almost immediately after Chris left for university, got into the daring and mysterious lifestyle of cross-dressing. He barely showed his face anymore at holidays, preferring the company of his clients to his own family.

"He'll come around," Elijah said, but he didn't sound too hopeful.

"Hopefully not in a dress," Chris teased with a smirk, breaking the tension and making everyone chuckle quietly.

"Dinner's ready, boys!" Ruth called from the kitchen and everyone got up, excited to finally get a home cooked meal. As the boys all sat down around the table, Ruth smiled at them.

"I'm so happy you're all here for Christmas with me," she said fondly, patting Chris on the head as she passed by him to sit down at the head of the table. "I hope you aren't waiting on me." She motioned to the food. "Eat up." They tucked away and bowls, plates and bottles were passed around in a flurry of motion. When the activity settled down, Ruth cleared her throat loudly, drawing each man's attention to her. Chris noticed Aaron watching the cat clock on the wall behind Elijah's head, and Henry was watching the watch on his wrist with a sly eye.

"So, how's university, Christopher dear?" Ruth asked.

"Fine." The shorter the answers, the better when it came to Ruth's questions.

"And Elijah, any new discoveries out in those old tombs in Egypt?"

"Nothing worth mentioning," Elijah said coolly, also noticing Aaron and Henry's behaviour with a shake of his head.

"Hmm." Ruth nodded, watching Henry and Aaron. "And you two." They looked away from their clocks. "Business at the store going good?"

"Yeah, quite good," Aaron answered.

"Yes, everything's fine," Henry confirmed quickly.

"Hmmm." Ruth started to take bowls of food and dish out her own portions. All of the boys looked at each other, a mixture of suspicion, worry and relief in their expressions. Ruth had yet to confront them, even though they had been home together for days. Maybe she had forgotten (unlikely), or maybe she was just tired from cooking all day. Either way, the usual speech's absence was a welcomed relief. A normal, guilt trip free holiday was very possible.

"You know, boys." Ruth's voice seemed to stop the air around the table. "You all have a responsibility to me as your mother." Elijah set his fork down, putting his head in his hand and mouthing what looked suspiciously like 'here we go'. "I have five sons, and it's only right that all of you find good women to settle down with and give me grandchildren-"

"Three minutes!" Henry shouted suddenly, making everybody jump. He reached his hand over the table toward Aaron. "Pay up." Aaron grumbled, reaching into his pocket to toss a note to Henry.

"Couldn't have waited another three minutes to bring it up, Mum?" Elijah's patient tone sounded very tired. "Look, all of us here know that you want us to get married. You don't have to keep reminding us."

"I just want you to remember, that's all. Rudy isn't going to give me any grandchildren." She paused, sniffling slightly and crossing herself. "So I have to depend on you four to pick up his slack."

"Mum, you have to give us time. We're all busy." Aaron motioned around the table. "Henry and I are running the store, Elijah's in Egypt playing tomb raider, and Chris is at university trying to get his life started. Cut us some slack here."

"But that doesn't mean you can't date in the meantime." The boys all groaned at their mother's incredulous tone. "Christopher." She pointed. "You have the perfect opportunity. You're at university. You have your choice of women." Not every woman, Chris thought to himself bitterly, a picture of Linda coming to his mind. He shook his head.

"I suppose so," he answered aloud. Ruth dropped her fork in irritation.

"You're telling me that none of my handsome boys even have girlfriends to talk about?" Her hands found her sides and she glanced around. "That's just horrible. I have worked hard to make sure you grew up decent men, and what do I get in return? All of you being single. It just breaks my heart-"

"Chris has a girlfriend," Henry suddenly said, ignoring Chris's balk. Aaron and Elijah froze, watching their mother's reaction, which went from down in the pits to high as the sky in a matter of microseconds.

"Well, now, is that true, Christopher?" she asked happily, clapping her hands together.

"We haven't been dating long," Chris said, shooting Henry a glare. "It's nothing serious-"

"He's lying," Henry cut in. "He's been writing non-stop about her since he got here in that notebook of his." He smirked, knowing he had Chris cornered. "Come now, Chris, tell Mum all about it; don't be shy." Chris's lips formed a tight line.

"Well, since we're not being shy here," he said lowly. "Why don't you tell Mum about your latest relationship? She would be happy to meet your partner; it's sitting on the table right now." Aaron coughed up his food, and Elijah rolled his eyes. _Count on Chris to have the last word,_ he thought warily. Henry narrowed his eyes and slowly moved his right hand to his lap.

"Stop it, Christopher," Ruth said, giving her son a look that made him seethe. Aaron recovered from the shock of Chris's statement and wiped his mouth.

"Honestly, it's Christmas," he said. "Can't you two just leave each other alone for two seconds?"

"If he wasn't such a smart arse-" Henry started. Chris stood to his feet, ready to give Henry a piece of his mind.

"All right, that's enough!" Aaron yelled before Ruth could even open her mouth. "Henry, one more word and that fork will be going straight up your nose."

"I'll gladly put it there," Chris growled.

"Chris," Elijah said calmly, looking positively bored at the entire scenario happening in front of him. "Sit down before you hurt yourself." For a minute, Henry and Chris stared each other down, both of them wondering if it was even worth it to finish the fight, but with a sigh of resignation, Chris suddenly walked away from the table and out of the kitchen, slamming the front door behind him. Aaron started to get up, but Elijah stood and motioned for him to sit back down. He could tell Chris needed a more gentle hand to talk some sense into him, and Aaron was not the person at that moment. Besides, he needed some air.

"I hope you're proud of yourself," Aaron said to Henry after the front door closed again.

"Wasn't my fault he was trying to hide a girlfriend," Henry grumbled, stuffing his mouth full of peas.

"At least he has a girlfriend," Ruth said. "I surely hope Chris was joking about...well, I hope he was joking," she finally finished, eying Henry who shifted awkwardly in his chair.

* * *

Chris was standing outside in the cold night air, watching the luminous night sky and trying to calm himself down when he heard footsteps behind him.

"Trying to catch your death out here?" Elijah rummaged through his pockets as he stopped next to him.

"Cold doesn't bother me." His body betrayed him with a deep shiver.

"You know Henry," Elijah continued as if Chris didn't speak at all. "He can be quite the ignorant brute."

"And I got stuck with him as a brother. God must hate me."

"Stop being so dramatic," Elijah chuckled and lit a match. After a couple of seconds, Chris smelled cigarette smoke.

"Since when do you smoke?"

"I needed something to do out in the desert at night," Elijah said, taking a long drag. "Actually, it was when we were passing through Cairo that I started." He blew out the smoke nosily.

"Ah."

"Here." The pack was open. "Right of passage into manhood." Chris chuckled, taking a cigarette out of the box.

"Brotherly tradition is more like it."

"We could call it that, too." Elijah lit a match and lit Chris's cigarette for him. "Try not to choke." As soon as he said it, Chris took a drag and started to cough. With a deep rumble of laughter, Elijah clapped his little brother's back. "You need low tar."

"I don't need this at all," Chris coughed, lowering the cigarette down by his side to burn.

"Whatever you say," Elijah mused, taking another long drag and blowing it out. "By the way, who are you writing about in your notebook?"

"Anne."

"The girlfriend Henry was referring to?"

"Mmm-hmm. I'm trying to write a poem for her, I promised I would give her one when we got back to university."

"Poems on demand. Sounds like a future business," Elijah drawled, chuckling at Chris's eye roll. "But I assume it isn't going too well."

"I can't seem to find the inspiration," Chris admitted, taking a drag of the cigarette. "I keep trying to find the words, but they just aren't coming to me."

"Very unusual for you, you have something to say about everything," Elijah replied. "But, I can tell that you're not just writing about Anne, but someone else, too." Chris scoffed.

"Can't slip anything past you."

"I'm an archaeologist; my job is to find the truth behind the myth."

"If Linda thinks I'm strange, she should have a chat with you sometime." Chris sounded as though just saying that name caused him some pain.

"So her name's Linda?"

"Yes," Chris sighed. "For awhile, we were good friends, and then I tried to take things farther and she...well, she didn't exactly tell me no, but she definitely didn't say yes, either. So I moved on, or I'm trying to." _And failing miserably,_ he finished silently.

"Hmm." Elijah threw his cigarette on the ground, stomping to put it out. "So, you want Linda, but you're with Anne. Pardon my painfully obvious statement, but that seems counterproductive."

"Anne's a very nice girl," Chris answered, the logic of their relationship taking over. "She's attractive, bright, and she thinks I'm the best thing that ever happened to her."

"To any normal man, that seems enough," Elijah said with a nod. "So, what about Linda? What makes her so special?"

"Linda is..." Chris paused, trying to sum Linda up in a sentence. "The most beautiful, brilliant, hard-headed, nervous, and overall emotionally blind person I've ever met. I'm convinced that in a previous life, she was an ostrich with a blonde wig." Elijah was pretty sure Chris was trying to sound bitter, but there was no mistaking the tenderness in the way he spoke about her.

"I'm sure the comparison would flatter her. Women love it when you compare them to large birds."

"She might punch me is more like it, but at least it would get her to notice me."

"Such a masochist," Elijah teased, making Chris scoff. "But in all seriousness, why are you with Anne? If anything, she's just a distraction from what...or who you really want. In my opinion, that doesn't seem fair to anyone."

"Linda is unbelievably loyal to what her parents want her to do," Chris said. "That's why I've left her alone. I got tired of getting rejected by her."

"Ah, I see now. You let rejection get to you. How very uncharacteristic..." Elijah trailed off.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Since when has rejection turned you away from a goal? Look at your chosen career. Your writing has been rejected numerous times, but does that stop you from trying again? Elijah glanced at his brother. "Remember when we were in primary school and you wanted to win the short story competition? You didn't win the first year, or the second year...or the third, or fourth or fifth year." Elijah chuckled. "The sixth year, you submitted something, like, twenty something entries under twenty different names just to ensure you had a chance." Chris smiled at the memory. "And you ended up winning...first, second and third place." The men laughed.

"But the point is," Elijah went on. "You didn't give up, even though you were rejected the first few times. Linda may not be a writing competition, but she is something more permanent: she's the woman you want." Chris took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"I thought your field was dusting off skeletons, not playing Cupid."

"It's just an observation, nothing more. Besides, don't patronize me, I couldn't shoot a bow and arrow to save my life and I would look horrid in a toga." Chris shook his head and smiled. "I don't usually dish out brotherly advice, but I'll tell you this: If you really want Linda as much as I think you do, you'll find a way to win her heart and you won't stop until you have her." Elijah waited for a few seconds to let his words sink. "But try not to go by twenty different names, it might confuse her." With a chuckle, he clapped Chris on the shoulder and started to walk back up toward the house, leaving his little brother by himself to think about his words.


	9. Chapter Nine - Jolene

**Chapter Nine – Jolene**

"And that's why Dr. Harlow is wrong to be doing these experiments," Linda's father, Dr. Ulysses Gregory said to her mother, Sarah and her. They (or her parents, rather) were dining and discussing Harlow's controversial monkey experiments. Linda blew a curl from her forehead and sighed, stabbing a piece of carrot with her fork in mind numbing boredom.

"I agree with you, dear," Sarah said patiently, eying Linda with a frown. "But what if he really does prove that a mother's love is important in the development of a child's emotional and psychological health?"

"He can find another way to do it. I'm telling you, this experiment will be the death of his career. The field of psychology could do without yet another scandal." Ulysses took a sip of his wine.

"Just be glad you're not a part of it, darling. Linda." Linda looked up from the utterly destroyed carrot coin. "Dear, if you don't want the carrots on your plate, leave them alone. No use in torturing them." Linda blinked, as though she didn't quite understand what she was being told, then looked down at her plate.

"Oh, um…sorry." She pushed the plate away. "I'm not really hungry. May I please be excused?"

"Nervous about meeting Peter, eh?" Ulysses said, patting Linda's hand lovingly. "Don't worry, love. You two are a perfect match."

"That's what you said about Matthew, Father." With a weak smile, Linda stood to her feet. "And Thomas." She walked off toward the stairs. "And Colin, and Jack, and Friedrich and..." her voice trailed off, and there was a slam of a door, along with silence.

"Linda hasn't been herself since she came back," Sarah said after a couple of seconds of silence.

"She's probably tired from all of the work she did this term," Ulysses said as he waved his hand. "I wouldn't worry about it, darling. You know Linda gets overwhelmed easily."

"I don't know. Something isn't right."

"If you want, I'll sit down with her and have a session. I have some time."

"No, that's all right." If it was one thing Linda couldn't stand, it was when Ulysses tried to treat her as one of his patients. It might've put her in an even fouler mood.

"It's her first year at university," Ulysses said. "It's supposed to be an intense time. We just need to let her have some space. She'll come to us when she needs to talk."

"I suppose…"

A tall, bald and rather thin butler walked into the dining room. "Dr. Gregory," he said with a bow. "Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne are in the drawing room with their son, Peter."

"Ah, tell them we'll be along shortly. And have someone fetch Linda from her room." Ulysses smiled at his wife. "This is the one, Sarah. I know Linda will like Peter." Sarah looked back toward the stairs, and with a sigh, she smiled and took her husband's hand, walking with him to the drawing room to greet their guests.

* * *

In the dim light of her bedroom, Linda held the piece of worn paper to her chest, sighing deeply to soak in the words on the page. Fate was kind enough to give her a stray poem from Chris's notebook (though he most likely didn't realize it was missing from his collection) and though she wasn't sure who it was addressed to, a part of her wondered exactly who was writing about.

Rolling over to lie on her back, she stared at the dark ceiling, contemplating when the reality of her situation would crash down on her, but she continued to float and drift, her mind seemingly oblivious to the truth. And that was just fine with her.

"If her beauty be that of a rose," Her racing heart was even louder in the silence, beating like a mighty war drum inside her chest. "Then I'll be glad to let my fingers feel the pricks-"

"Ms. Linda," a voice called gently on the other side of the door. "Your parents have requested you come to the drawing room." The loss of the moment resonated within her and she sighed, stuffing the poem under her pillow and getting up to go to the mirror and fluff her blonde curls to look presentable for their guests. Back to being Linda Gregory, she thought to herself as she straightened the bodice of her dress and opened the door to go downstairs...

* * *

"We are so pleased to have you here." Peter and his parents sat down together on the couch across from Linda and her parents, looking very uncomfortable with their cups of tea in their hands.

"Thank you for inviting us," Mr. Hawthorne said softly, taking a nervous sip from his cup and pushing his glasses further up his nose. Linda couldn't help but think of the family sitting across from her as an odd group. Mrs. Hawthorne's nose was so large and sharp that her profile closely resembled a crow's beak. Paired with a squinty expression and lips that were pale and thin, she looked as though she was constantly in pain. Her husband was no better; Linda was glad for the lack of sharp light in the room; Mr. Hawthorne's head was so shiny, she was sure that the reflection off of it would blind them all. _And that large black mustache..._distasteful.

But Peter...

Linda had to admit, he was actually quite pleasant on the eyes; compared to Chris, he was quite...

She sighed and stopped herself mid-thought to study Peter. At that moment, to her surprise, he didn't look like the proud gentleman that her father had praised him to be. In fact, he looked rather meek slightly hunched over with his head down.

"How's the medical world, Peter?" Ulysses asked cheerfully. "Being a doctor must be hard work." Peter didn't answer right away; he seemed to be lost in his tea, a strained expression on his face. Mrs. Hawthorne nudged her son roughly, quickly cleared her throat and put her cup to her lips.

"It's trying," Peter finally answered, smiling shyly.

"Linda's studying mathematics." Pride dripped from every word of Ulysses's statement. "I daresay she's smarter than most of her class." Linda clenched her teeth and suddenly gulped her tea, ignoring the burn of the liquid as it went down her throat. Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne didn't look the slightest bit impressed at the declaration. They must've been part of the 'other' group that Chris had pointed out to her a couple of months back when they had their first conversation. She fought back a smile at the memory.

"Peter got accepted into a fellowship program in London," Mrs. Hawthorne's voice squeaked suddenly.

"Is that so? Well, congratulations, Peter!" Ulysses suddenly got to his feet. "We should toast the good news!" He got a bottle of brandy from the wine case and six small goblets. "You know," he said on the way back to them. "You remind me of when I was working on my doctorate, Peter." Opening the bottle, Ulysses splashed some liquid in each glass. "I actually met Linda's mother during that time through our parents." Linda and Peter looked at each other, hoping her exasperation wasn't plainly obvious, but he looked like he was going to faint, swallowing as though he was trying his best to keep his composure.

"It was a match made in heaven, wasn't it, darling?" He asked Sarah.

"Perfect," she replied with a smile.

"I'm telling you, this here is how great couples are made." Ulysses motioned around to everyone. Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne said nothing, their eyes sliding over to their son, who was growing increasingly pale with each word spoken. "We parents know what's best for our children, don't we?"

"Yes, we do," Mr. Hawthorne whispered darkly. Peter's head snapped around, pinning his father's knowing stare with a vicious glare that made Linda's hair stand on end. Ulysses seemed oblivious to what was happening and passed the goblets around.

"A toast," he called strongly, swinging his goblet. "To Peter's future. May he ever be successful with the right woman by his side," he finished with a pointed look to Linda, who was clutching her goblet with an iron grip. But a shatter of glass broke into everyone's train of thought; Peter had dropped his goblet and he looked at his shaking hand, hiding it quickly by his side.

"I'm so sorry," Mr. Hawthorne said shakily, shooting Peter a dark look. "Sometimes, Peter gets so nervous…"

"That's all right-" Suddenly, Peter's footsteps were out of the room and storming down the hall, leaving everyone to stare at each other in bewilderment.

"We apologize for his behavior," Mr. Hawthorne's voice sounded strangely annoyed. "He's had a hard year."

"Oh, no need to apologize," Sarah fretted, setting her goblet down. "I just hope he's all right."

"He will be." Mrs. Hawthorne shot her husband a look, which made him tense up and look away.

"Um, I'll get Esther," Linda said quietly, setting her goblet down and walking out before anyone could stop her. She walked down the empty hall and was about to pass her father's study, but stopped. Inside, Peter was clutching his head and panting softly, his back to her. Whatever was going on inside of his head was intense enough to make him shake where he stood.

"Peter?" She called softly, making him jump and spin around to face her.

"Oh, Linda." He ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I'm so sorry about..." he trailed off, licking his lips.

"No, it's fine." She walked up to him, noticing the sweat on his forehead. "I was just worried about you. Are you all right? You look so pale…"

"I will be." Peter attempted a smile, some color going back into his cheeks. With a curt nod, he walked past her, but the soft mutter of his voice didn't escape her ears: "Someday."

* * *

The Christmas Eve party was in full swing. The music played loudly as friends, business partners and acquaintances of Linda's parents wandered all around the large mansion, laughing and feasting on the various plates of food and drink that were totted around by the butlers. Ulysses had said the party wasn't appropriate for a young lady to be attending, so Linda was instructed to remain in her room for the rest of the night.

But out of boredom, she managed to sneak downstairs unseen and she sat in the corner chair in her father's study, reading from a book of Robert Burns poetry that she found in the library next to her bedroom. Chris had read Burns's poetry to her many times after tutoring sessions, making sense of the archaic language and giving new life to the words on the page. Even then, as she read silently, she could hear the purr of Chris's voice as if he was speaking right into her ear. A shiver ran through her body at the thought.

"I thought young ladies weren't allowed to this party," a voice said by the door and she looked up to see Peter standing there, his eyes on the book in her lap.

"I was bored up in my room. Thought I would come down and do some reading."

"Reading for fun? Is that even possible?" Peter asked, strolling into the room to sit on the couch across from Linda's chair. He smiled gently, the dimples in his cheeks making him look so much more like a boy than a man. He looked as though he had recovered from his breakdown from the day before.

"I suppose so." She shrugged lazily. "Why aren't you at the party?"

"I'm not interested in Christmas." Peter leaned back. "It's a horrid holiday, in my opinion."

"Well, aren't you just jolly," she said flatly. He smiled at her jab.

"What were you reading?"

"Robert Burns, an old Scottish poet."

"Ah. I thought you were in mathematics."

"I am. I tutored an English major for a bit, and he used to read poetry to me after our sessions. I think it was his way of recovering from the mental abuse I evoked on him." Peter chuckled.

"Gave him a run for his money, did you?"

"He wanted help, so I gave it to him. Good thing I helped him, too; he was bloody awful." A deep chuckle of amusement came from Peter's lips.

"So, this English major..."

"Chris." His name made her heart skip a beat.

"Chris." Peter corrected. "Is he a friend of yours?" She paused.

"Used to be," she finally answered. "Until he got the wrong idea about our relationship and I had to tell him to leave me alone."

"I see," Peter mused, looking very thoughtful. "Why would he get the wrong idea?"

"He really liked me. I suppose that I wasn't exactly...put off by his attention." Linda felt a blush creep up on her cheeks, but Peter didn't look the slightest bit put off by her confession. If anything, he looked more thoughtful. "But I told him the reason I couldn't pursue anything with him."

"Your parents?" She nodded once. "Yes, I suppose that would put a damper on things...Let's just say," he said suddenly, sitting up straighter. "That you had the freedom to accept him…why him?" He leaned forward, as if he was very interested in her answer. Clearing her throat, she shrugged.

"To be quite honest, I don't know. He drives me crazy." In more ways than one, she finished in her mind. "He's wise beyond his years, but he's moody and somewhat arrogant. I daresay he's overconfident in himself to a fault."

Peter smiled. "But there's something about him that you like as well, am I right?" She scoffed and smiled.

"He's passionate. It can be quite a trial to talk to him at times. You think he's quiet at first, but he actually has a lot to say. He's also a blazing romantic, knows exactly what to say to make a girl swoon."

"He has a rare gift most men don't have. He sounds like a very complex and unique individual."

"I've never met anyone like him." Linda's smile grew bigger. "I don't look at life the same anymore. I can't, he's ruined certain elements of it for me."

"In other words, he inspires you."

"In every way," Linda murmured. Peter leaned back on the couch, his hand to his mouth in deep thought.

"It's rare to find someone that you're so compatible with and that you like so much. Isn't it frustrating when you want so bad to return the feelings, but you know you can't?" She stared at him, not expecting the sudden turn of the conversation.

"Extremely," she agreed slowly.

"But you know, Linda," Peter placed his elbows on his knees and took a breath. "Life is about risks, and sometimes the biggest risks of all have some of the greatest rewards attached."

"Our parents don't believe in risks," she said plainly, not really sure of how to respond to the deep statement.

"I know. Believe me, I know…" he swallowed. "But I know exactly how you feel, Linda. I also had my own 'Chris'." Linda blinked in surprise. "Her name was Jolene. She was an art major. Could paint landscapes with her eyes closed, paint people after looking at them once. I remember seeing her for the first time in the art studio," Peter smiled, his expression seeming to brighten at the memory. "She had green paint in her hair, and her clothes looked like the palette had gotten sick and thrown up on her, but she still looked gorgeous. I felt like I made this connection with her that I would never make with anyone else. It didn't take long for us to fall madly in love."

"We dated in secret for about 6 months," he continued. "And when summer holidays came, I told my parents about her. They tried to change my mind by setting me up with all sorts of women, but I wouldn't budge; I wanted Jolene. I thought I was going to go back to uni after the holiday, but..." a look of both seething anger and utter devastation settled onto his face. "My father went behind my back and demanded the university give my records over and I got transferred to a college in Ireland." Linda's heart dropped at Peter's shaky sigh.

"But the time I graduated," his voice dropped in volume with each word. "I went to find Jolene, but she had already married someone else." The last whisper was so quiet, Linda had to basically stop breathing to hear him. She felt her eyes burn with tears. Peter's voice was so raw, so heavy with regret and pain.

"I have never forgiven myself for that. If I had just stayed quiet, Jolene and I probably could've stayed together." He held up his trembling hand to look at it, scoffing. "Every time I think that my wounds have finally healed…I find I'm still bleeding." He laughed bitterly, dropping his hand to his lap. "It hurts my mother that my father and I will never be on good terms again because of what happened, but that's life, I suppose." Linda swallowed.

"I'm sure Jolene still loves you."

"It doesn't matter anymore. Another man has her heart, and I…well, I'm sure I won't be getting married any time soon. Take my advice, Linda: If in the end, you decide to pursue a relationship with Chris, whatever you do, don't tell your parents." He looked at her with the most serious expression. "You can't," he said firmly. "If you do, you will lose him."

"I fear I already have," Linda whispered. "He has a girlfriend. I saw them together before we left for holiday."

"That could change."

"I doubt that."

"If he's as passionate as you say he is, he won't forget you so easily." Peter stood to his feet. "My chance has come and gone at love, but please...don't throw away yours, Linda." She nodded.

"I won't…if he ever comes back around, that is."

"He will. Trust me." With those last words, Peter left and Linda wiped at her eyes, the tale of Jolene haunting her enough to abandon the study and retreat to her room.


	10. Chapter Ten - In The Closet

**Chapter Ten – In the Closet**

"It's as though they purposefully waited to give us all of this homework right after holiday." Michael's whine in the dining hall wasn't too far from the truth. The weeks after coming back from holiday were a busy time for every student around the university. Chris wrote so many papers and essays that his hand seemed to be in a constant cramp. "I haven't seen Melody in days. Look at my arm, Chris." Michael thrust his arm forward. "I'm having withdrawals."

"Oh, for God's sake, get a grip." Chris flexed his stiff fingers. "You'll see her over the weekend, you sap."

"If I ever get done with the math homework in this century," Michael grumbled as he poked at his oatmeal. He glanced to the other side of the hall and saw Anne sitting by herself, shooting a murderous glare at the back of Chris's head. "You know, if looks could kill, your head would be plastered all over the wall behind me." She got up from the table and Michael looked back down quickly at his oatmeal.

"What were you staring at?" She barked as she came to their table.

"I wasn't staring," Michael said calmly.

"Oh, so the wall behind me was apparently very interesting." There was no mistaking the condescending sarcasm in her voice.

"I wasn't staring," Michael repeated, his voice starting to sound extremely annoyed.

"Anne, stop." Chris set his notebook down and looked up at her. "Don't attack Mike. You're mad at me, not him."

"You're damn right I'm pissed off at you," she spat. "I thought you were different from all the others, but no, you're the same." She looked at the men around the table, who were staring at her. "You're all the same!" She shouted, making the entire dining hall quiet down suddenly.

"For God's sakes, Anne." Chris stood to his feet, grabbing her arm to pull her out the door and to the snowy grounds outside. "Are you trying to make yourself look crazy?" he snapped.

Her lip quivered slightly. "I love you, Chris. What did I do to make you not love me?" she asked tearfully, pawing furiously at her eyes.

"Anne, it's not that." Chris felt some sympathy for the poor girl. She looked absolutely heartbroken. "You're very nice, but you deserve someone that will love you back, and that's just not me." She sniffled and huffed, storming back into the dining hall and knocking over a tray of silverware on the way back to her table. Chris sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"I suppose she isn't taking things too well." Michael said as he came out and handed Chris his bag and notebook. "She looked positively mad in there."

"She'll be all right," Chris said as he took his things. They turned around to walk back to their room, passing by a classroom where Linda was coming out.

"I'll see you later." Michael didn't have time to reply to Chris's quick goodbye; he turned and watched with exasperation as Chris followed Linda, who was reading from a book as she walked down the open walkway.

"He just doesn't know when to quit…" Michael muttered, turning around to continue walking.

* * *

"Linda!" Linda stopped and turned around to see Chris jogging to catch up to her.

"Oh, hello Chris." She looked happy to see him. "How was your holiday?"

"Spent it with my three idiot brothers and my overbearing mother…but the food was good," he said with a nod. She laughed.

"Sounds interesting."

"Mmph. Did you…end up meeting Peter?"

Linda tilted her head slightly. "I did."

"And…?" Chris asked slowly, hoping he wasn't looking too hungry for information.

"He's not my type," she said simply, shrugging.

"I didn't think he would be," he said with what he hoped was a level voice.

"Of course you did." They stared at each other, Linda looking curiously thoughtful. She had no idea how beautiful she looked when she was thinking; it was on the tip of Chris's tongue to tell her so, but instead, he cleared his throat.

"Listen, I was wondering if you had some time tonight, maybe we could go into town and-"

"Linda!" A tall and lanky man came out of nowhere and clapped her on the shoulder. "Are you coming to study group?"

"Oh, it's today, isn't it?" Linda groaned, shutting her book. "I'm coming. Wait for me and we'll walk together."

"Okay." The man smiled at her and glanced at Chris, quickly walking off.

"I'm sorry," she said as she /turned back to face him. "Umm…you want to talk, yes, umm, I won't be back till late, so can we talk tomorrow?"

Chris sighed, throwing up his hand. "I guess so," he muttered.

"Okay, I'll come find you tomorrow." With a jog away from him, she caught up with the mysterious man and they walked across the grounds together, laughing loudly at something the boy said in her ear. Chris's eyes narrowed and he spun around to walk back toward his dorm house, positively fuming at the interruption. But his anger soon disappeared as a thought came to his mind: Linda didn't tell him what TIME she would talk to him- just that it had to happen tomorrow…

_Thankfully, Michael is a very deep sleeper_, Chris thought with a mischievous smirk as he continued toward the dormitory...

* * *

The homework was impossible.

Linda threw her pencil to the side and sighed, rubbing her hands over her tired eyes. After tutoring the group from her math class and trying to do her own homework, she was exhausted. But her mind was still racing. Chris wanted to talk to her and she was picturing all sorts of scenarios on how the conversation would go, and none of them seem to be the right conversation.

She glanced at the clock on the desk. 2:21 AM. With a sigh, she reached under the desk to shut the lamp off…

But a soft knock started her. She stayed still, wondering if it wasn't just her imagination, but the knock came again, just a tad bit louder. With a look to Fran to make sure was still sleeping, Linda got up and went to the door, opening it slowly. The lights in hall were dim, and it was hard to see, but she knew that profile anywhere...

* * *

"Chris?" Chirs didnt blame Linda for sounding confused as to why he was standing in front of her dorm room in the wee hours of the morning. After all, it wasn't exactly appropriate for him to be there in the first place and he wandered how long it was going to take her to realize the situation. Almost immediately, her eyes widened with surprise. "What are you doing here?" Her voice sounded high pitched with fear.

"I need to talk to you," he whispered. Linda blinked and opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again.

"How did you get in?" She finally choked out.

"Picked the lock," he said. "I really should have a word with the groundskeeper in the morning,;it isn't safe for you ladies to be in a place where breaking in would be so utterly simple." Linda blinked, looking as though she was literally lost for words to say.

"I thought I said I'd talk to you tomorrow," she said.

"It is tomorrow," he said matter-of-factly.

"For the love of God," Linda rubbed her forehead. "This couldn't wait until later in the day?" she asked with a shake of her head. Chris paused and pondered her question.

"It could," he finally acknowledged. "But I decided I wanted to talk now." Linda's hand flew to her forehead, connecting with a rather loud smack. She opened her mouth to reply, but a door opening down the hall stopped her.

"Sh-" Chris felt himself get jerked by his shirt into the dorm room and Linda shut the door as quietly as she could. They both stopped and listened for sounds outside, but nothing came close to the room and all became quiet again. Fran snored loudly from her bed, muttering something incoherent.

"Oh my God." Linda sounded as though she was about to have a heart attack. "You're in my dorm room after hours. I let you in my dorm. We're in so much trouble," she whined, resting her forehead against the door.

"We didn't get caught, now did we?" Chris asked innocently and his arm stung with a hard smack.

"Hush," Linda snapped, looking at Fran, who snorted again. "You're lucky she's a hard sleeper. In the closet." She pushed him toward the door that led to the small closet and shoved him inside, following him and shutting the door behind her. The light bulb switched on and a very angry Linda stared up at him.

"I have half a mind to kill you," she said tightly.

"You're acting as though I've committed a crime."

"And breaking into buildings after hours isn't a crime?!" Linda fiercely whispered. "Chris, you can't just do that!"

"Lin, relax," he said gently. "I've broken into many places I wasn't supposed to be and got out just fine."

"How-I-I don't even-" Linda stopped and breathed out a long sigh. "What in the world were you thinking?" she finally asked.

"I told you, I came here to talk," he repeated.

Linda groaned in exasperation and shook her head. "Well, since you're here, might as well talk." Leaning back against the door and crossing her arms, she eyed him. "I daresay your girlfriend probably wouldn't approve of this."

"I don't have a girlfriend."

She blinked. "Since when?"

"Since we got back."

"Ah. Well, that's a nice New Year's gift. 'Happy New Year, you're single'." Chris rolled his eyes at Linda's sarcastic tone. "Why did you break up?" She asked, returning to her normal voice.

"She wasn't who I wanted," he said simply.

Linda visibility stiffened. "And who would be who you really want?"

"Do you really have to ask me that?" Chris reached out to brush a curl from her face and ran his finger very lightly down her cheek. "Why do you insist on fighting it?"

"Fighting what?"

"The chemistry between us." He inched closer to her in the small space. "Come now, Lin, you can't tell me you don't see it, that you don't feel it when we're together. It's electricity between us."

Linda swallowed. "Of course I know it's there," she breathed out after a few seconds. "It's impossible to ignore."

"So let's do something about it." Chris grabbed her arms gently. "We've been dancing around our feelings for far too long." She put her hands on his chest to keep him back a couple of inches, but froze. He wasn't sure, but he could swear that she seemed to be rather entranced at the fact that her hands were actually touching him.

"We have, haven't we?" Her voice sounded airy as she very slowly ran her hands over the hard planes of his chest.

"I know that you want to be loyal to your parents' wishes." Chris's body was hypersensitive to each stroke of her hands, but he fought to keep his mind on what he was saying. "But underneath the layers of obligations, the requirements, you have desires and wants." She closed her eyes, but he gently shook her and her eyes snapped back open, her quiet breaths slightly tickling his lips.

"I like you, Linda," Chris whispered. "More than I've ever liked another girl...another woman," he corrected. "I can't explain why I'm so attracted to you; of course, you're smart, but there's more to you than your genius intellect. And I...I want to know what's beyond that," he finally finished after a few seconds of fumbling and instantly, he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. If there was ever a time where he was so amazingly awkward, it was that moment. The silence from her stretched on so long that he half expected her to reject him yet again, but he saw her eyes drift to his lips and his heart began to race in excitement and nervousness. But as much he wanted to try and kiss her, he willed himself to stay still.

_She needs to make the first move toward me; this is up to her now..._

He felt her start to slightly shake.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked softly. She shook her head.

"No, I just...I'm...having...I don't..." she paused and pursed her lips. "It just doesn't make sense to me."

"What doesn't?"

"Why you...like me so much."

He cupped her cheek and smiled. "You know, as much as you want to always have the upper hand in figuring things out, there are some things that you'll never be able to understand." He almost chuckled at her look of offense. "I don't mean that in an insulting way."

"The chemistry of attraction is incredibly simple-" she started to say, but Chris put a finger to her lips.

"I'm sure that it is," he said patiently. "But experiencing it firsthand is very different from reading about it in a textbook, which is what you're used to doing." He removed his finger slowly." As much I want to carry on this conversation, I think it best that I leave before Fran wakes up." Linda blinked and slowly moved out of the way of the door, but as he reached to the knob, she grabbed his arm.

"Wait..." She took a deep breath as he turned to face her, waiting for her to speak. She opened and shut her mouth a few times and then finally, with a look of what he assumed was determination, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him into her body, her lips gently kissing his. He instantly felt like she doused him with fire; he pushed her back against the wall and returned her kiss just as eagerly, cupping her face. His senses spun as they were filled with her intoxicating scent. Chris never imagined that his first real kiss would be in a closet at university with the girl's best friend sleeping right outside the door, but it was...the most perfect moment of his life. As the seconds ticked by, their innocent first kiss was quickly taking a turn toward something dangerous and reluctantly, Linda pulled back from his lips.

"Before this goes too far," she said gently.

"Oh, yes." Chris released her head and stepped back, slightly shuffling his feet. "Sorry."

"No, no, don't be. That was...quite nice," she said with a smile.

"Does that mean I can kiss you again?" he asked with a hopeful tone. She chuckled and let him pull her into for another gentle kiss and a hug.

"So you don't have a girlfriend," she said after a couple of seconds of silence and basking in his attention of stroking her hair and back.

"I do now," he muttered. "That is, if you want to be."

"Of course I do," she said as she pulled back to look at him and touched his cheek with her fingertips, feeling the light scruff of his five o' clock shadow. "But we have to keep it quiet," she said seriously.

"My lips are sealed."

"I can't tell my parents at all."

"I expected as much. A secret romance...I have to admit, it's kind of exciting."

She rolled her eyes. "Only you would think so," she said tiredly. Chris chuckled.

"You know, I really should leave now." With a cute pout, Linda left his arms and turned around to open the closet door. Thankfully, Fran was still sleeping, her snores quieter than they were before. They left the small space and Linda opened the dorm room door to look out tentatively.

"All right, it's clear."

"Meet me in the library later today." Before he walked by, Chris gently grabbed her jaw and kissed her again, slowly pulling away. "See you later." He walked down the hall and she shut the door, running to the window to make sure he got out unseen. She breathed out a sigh of relief as he walked across the grounds to his own dorm.

"Linda," Fran muttered suddenly, making Linda jump and gasp. "Next time you and Chris decide to snog, do try and be a little quieter, yeah?" She blushed a furious shade of red, brushing at her shirt.

"And by the way." There was a smile in Fran's voice. "It's about damn time you became that mad man's girlfriend."

"Oh hush," Linda chuckled and laid down in her bed. "He is mad, isn't he?" she asked after a minute.

"And that's why you like him," Fran yawned, falling back asleep with a loud snort.

"Yeah...that's why I do," Linda agreed with a smile and she turned over on her side, falling into a peaceful sleep.


	11. Chapter Eleven - Calm Before the Storm

**Chapter Eleven – The Calm Before the Storm**

February had arrived at the university and along with more snow, there was more romance on the grounds than normal. Valentine's Day had snuck up on everyone, even Chris and Linda, who hadn't realized that a month had gone by since their relationship was official. But underneath the mountains of homework, tests and projects between them, it was easy to lose sight of the time.

Per usual, they were in the library at a table in the back, busily working on their assignments. As Linda held her hands in front of her mouth, she felt Chris's hand move her hair from her neck and his lips press against her skin.

"Chris, stop, I'm trying to concentrate." She gently pushed him away and covered the side of her neck with her hand, trying to finish the problem on her worksheet. But he was relentless; her hair moved again and his lips brushed against her ear. "Oh, for the love of-" she meant to scold him, but instead she ended up giggling instead at the sensation of his breath in her ear. "Stop," she said, trying and failing to keep a straight face, laughing at his pout. "Darling, I really must finish this set today." Chris frowned.

"Fine," he grumbled, picking up his pencil to start writing again. With a scoff, she went back to her set, but she found that her body buzzed with the memory of Chris's touch and she couldn't concentrate probably. She bit her lip, set her pencil down and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

"Oh, no you don't," Chris said, leaning away. "You had your chance." Linda frowned.

"Oh, come now," she purred, laying her hand on his arm. Chris watched her from the corner of his eye and opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it, clearing his throat.

"Like I said, you had your chance." He took her hand and moved it back to her lap, going back to his paper. Linda huffed; so he was playing hard to get. She could take him up on the chase. She pushed his notebook away and brought his face around to kiss him. She felt his hand hold her head and she deepened the kiss with a brazing confidence that even surprised her.

"Who are you and what have you done with Linda?" Chris breathed when they broke apart, stroking her hair. She tilted her head in confusion. "You have this...unbelievable boldness about you now. It's nice," he added as an afterthought, pulling her in for another kiss. But a loud bang startled them and they looked to see Anne standing, hatefully glaring at Linda.

"Umm…hi, Anne." Chris released Linda to sit back down in her chair, shifting awkwardly. Anne didn't look at him, but continued to glare at Linda. "Did you need something?" Linda started to fidget in nervousness under the scathing look. Anne blinked, as if snapping out of a trance and looked at him.

"Piss off," she snapped, picking up the pile of books she slammed down and storming off back into the shelves. No one said anything for a couple of seconds, trying to comprehend what just happened.

"Wasn't that-?"

"Yes," Chris said shortly, running a hard through his hair.

"Well, I'm sure our little performance did wonders for her confidence." She sighed. "I know what that feels like."

"You do?"

"How did you think I felt when I saw you kissing her before holiday?"

Chris stared at her. "You weren't like that, though," he said with a jab of his thumb in Anne's direction.

"Not to that extent, no, but I was pretty hurt." Linda shrugged. "I'm just saying I know the feeling of watching a bloke you really like going after someone else."

"Well, you'll never have to worry about that again." Chris grabbed her hand. "I'm completely devoted to you." She smiled at his romantic declaration.

"And I to you," she replied, accepting a brief kiss from him.

"Well, now that we have that sorted out..." Chris stood to his feet, slinging his bag on his shoulder. "I'll see you later tonight. I have some last minute details to take care of."

"I hope you didn't go to extreme lengths for this. It's just Valentine's Day."

"When have you known me to do anything on a small scale for you?"

"Never, which is why I'm worried." Chris chuckled.

"Don't be." He kissed her cheek and walked off, leaving her to finish her math sets in peace.

* * *

"Where are we going?" They walked arm in arm down the corridor, the chill of the night drawing her closer to him.

"You'll see. You're very impatient this evening." He winked, and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm not impatient. I just want to know things right away," she grumbled.

Chris laughed. "Humor me." They stopped in front of a door that Linda was pretty sure she had never been through before. "Close your eyes." She stared at him, tilting her head slightly.

"Why?"

"Just do it."

"I don't see the reason-"

"Close…your eyes," Chris said again. With a sigh, she did as he asked and he came around to grab her shoulders, guiding her through the door.

"What in the world," Linda said as she smelled the air, which was rich with the smell of roses. She didn't even want to think about how much money Chris probably spent on making the night special. They walked for a few seconds and he suddenly pulled her to a stop.

"All right, open your eyes." When she did, she gasped at the sight of what looked like a small stage surrounded by piles and piles of roses of all different colors, and candles lit everywhere. A single chair sat in front of the stage, while a single chair sat on the stage.

"Oh, my God, Chris." She walked around, taking in the sight. It was truly breathtaking, intimate and romantic. She stopped and turned to face him, the awe on her face melting into suspicion. "Please tell me you didn't have to break in here."

Chris laughed heartily. "Relax," he said after catching his breath. "Professor Varns owed me a favor after I edited the script for the drama department's play last term."

"Well, thank goodness," she said with an over exaggerated breath of relief. "So...what is this?"

"It's a poetry reading," he said.

"You've read poetry to me, though," She replied dumbly.

"But not poetry I've written." He ushered to her to her seat. "Now, get comfortable. The show will begin shortly." As she did as he asked, Chris went around to the side of the stage, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. Despite giving off an air of confidence, he was actually, in reality, quite terrified. He was about to show Linda the deepest part of him, the part he rarely let people see.

He could only hope she would appreciate it.

With a final sigh, he walked onto the stage and sat in the chair, opening his notebook. Linda sat stone still, smiling sweetly at him. His heart lurched as he read the first lines: "If the sky were of parchment, I could not being to write of my love for her…" Reading his poetry got less intimidating with each line and soon, his nerves were practically gone. He occasionally looked to Linda from the notebook, and was delighted to see she was completely entranced by his words and barely moved at all.

When he was finished, he shut the notebook and stood to his feet, bowing. Linda chuckled, wiping at her teary eyes.

"This was amazing, Chris," she said soflty, standing to her feet. "I can't believe you wrote all of that, you're incredibly talented."

"Thanks." He beamed. "You know," His face dropped. "I thought I had one more poem…" He looked thoughtful. "I'm sure I did, but I can't remember for the life of me what it says. Something about a rose, maybe…" Linda swallowed.

"If her beauty be that of a rose," The words of the poem suddenly came back to her, flowing out of her mouth with ease. "Then I'll be glad to let my fingers feel the pricks," She took a few steps toward him. "And will delight in the strings of that beauty which is so fragile. Oh, dear rose, why do you hide expecting to remain unknown? Come forth, let me partake of your beauty, your life, your thorns. You stand alone, but I have noticed you. I have come for you, and taken you captive with my love." She stood at the stage's edge and smiled at Chris's expression of delightful surprise.

"It fell out of your notebook one night, and I kept it," she explained softly. He jumped down from stage and with a chuckle, he cupped her cheek and tenderly stroked her bottom lip with his thumb.

"It's nice to hear my poetry from your lips," he said.

"It's a wonderful poem."

"Do you know who it's about?" She paused, swallowing.

"I originally assumed it was Anne."

"And now?"

"It's me, isn't it?" He didn't reply, but instead rested his forehead against hers gently and closed his eyes to relish in just being close to her.

"Remember what I said about love last year?" He suddenly whispered.

"It's a serious force," Linda quoted back softly.

"Capable of tearing apart kingdoms."

"And bridging gaps." She drew close to him, cupping his face in her hands. "Even willing you to death." Chris's eyes opened and his heart raced at the look of simmering passion in Linda's eyes. "Chris, I'm just as nervous as you are, you know." She smiled shyly. "This is completely new to me, too." He swallowed, trying to breathe under the crushing weight of all of the different emotions hitting him at once.

_Say it._

_But it hasn't been long since we've been-_

_Just say it._

He grabbed her arms gently.

"I love you." As soon as the words left his mouth, the world faded to where there was just him and Linda. All that mattered was hearing the words come back to him.

"I love you, too," Linda whispered, stroking his cheek with her thumb. "I love you so much." Her lips met his and he let himself get lost in the tidal wave of passion between them. As he touched her hair, her shoulders, her face, he wanted nothing more than to give her every piece of him he had to offer, even the ugliest parts that he hid from everyone else. In her arms, he wasn't the moody, eccentric and overall obnoxiously ridiculous person most people saw, but as a man -THE man- who wooed her to him through his words, his actions and his passionate love.

Linda was like an addiction, his worst vice and yet, she was also his savior. He held her in his arms, praying that nothing would ever come between them. He didn't know how he would cope if he ever lost her.

* * *

She never hated anyone so much.

Anne watched Chris walking down the open corridor around the courtyard, laughing and talking with Michael. The picture of him kissing Linda in the library came back to her, and although it had been almost a month since that happened, it still made her seethe with anger. As if right on cue, her best friend Melody and Linda walked up to the boys and Chris separated himself from Michael, taking Linda's hand to walk with her.

Anne looked back down to her homework and saw blurry words; the tears burned her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She had cried so many tears over the last few months that she was pretty sure she couldn't cry anymore anyway. Looking back up, she watched as they stopped in front of a classroom to share a kiss before going their separate ways. Her grip tightened and the pencil in her hand snapped in half with a soft crack. Fighting back a scream of frustration, she threw the pencil into the grass and pawed angrily at her teary eyes, breathing hard in an effort to calm herself down.

"I hate him, I hate him, I hate him…" She grabbed her hair, biting her lip so hard, she broke skin and felt a sting as the taste of metal flowed into her mouth. She glared viciously at Chris's retreating back. "I hate you," she hissed menacingly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. The oath to not cry over Chris anymore flew out the window, and Anne surrendered to her feelings, crying bitter tears in the spring breeze that felt more like a cold draft that pierced her to the very core of her soul.


	12. Chapter Twelve - The Will to Fight

**Chapter Twelve – The Will to Fight**

"Oh, my."

Melody and Anne sat outside by the stone tables, enjoying the spring breeze as it gently blew all over the grounds. "I can't believe he's here," Melody continued, sounding completely awe struck.

"Who?" Anne asked as she looked up from her homework.

"See that man?" Melody pointed to a tall man with salt and pepper hair walking down the open corridor with a woman by his side, her blonde hair shimming in the sunlight as she walked. "That's Dr. Ulysses Gregory. He's a prominent psychologist- has written books and everything. He's brilliant. What is he doing here, I wonder?"

"God only knows." Anne went back to her homework, but stopped and slowly looked up. "Wait…Gregory. Isn't Linda's last name Gregory?"

Melody's face became one of panic and she started to fret, shoving her books into her bag. "Oh, I should go and warn Chris that he's here."

"Why would you need to warn Chris about that?" Anne asked. Melody stopped packing her books and looked around to make sure no one was listening in. She leaned on the table, propping up on her elbows.

"Dr. Gregory is Linda's father," she whispered dramatically. "And he's not supposed to know she's dating anyone. At least, that's what Michael says." Anne stared at Melody, her head tilting slightly to the side.

"So…Chris and Linda are having a secret affair of sorts?"

Melody nodded. "They have to keep it a secret because she's underage and Michael said that if her father ever found out that she and Chris were together, he would go mad and make sure they would never see each other again." Her face fell. "Isn't that just horrible?" Anne's lip curled up in a mischievous smile.

"Terrible." She closed her book with a sudden slam. "Don't worry about telling Chris about Linda's parents," she said as she stood up. "I saw him earlier sitting by himself doing some reading. I'll tell him."

"Are you sure? I know you and Chris aren't exactly-"

"Oh, yes, yes, you're busy with all that homework anyhow."

"Well, if you're sure..."

"It'll be my pleasure to tell him," Anne said truthfully with a smile that made Melody slightly worried. She watched as Anne walked off in the direction of the dining hall and went back to her homework, not noticing Anne's sudden turn toward the corridor and her sprint toward Dr. and Mrs. Gregory.

"Dr. Gregory!" She called, running to catch up to them. They stopped and turned to look at her as she skidded to a stop in front of them.

"Hello there," Ulysses greeted warmly. The girl look absolutely enthralled, her eyes shining as she held out her hand.

"Doctor, it's such a pleasure to meet you." She beamed as they shook hands. "Is this your wife?"

"Oh, yes." He smiled at the woman, placing his hand on the small of her back. "My lovely wife, Sarah."

"It's nice to meet you both! Whatever are you doing here?"

"Oh, we're having lunch with an old colleague of mine. And we thought we'd stop by to see our daughter, Linda," Ulysses said. "Do you know her?"

"Oh, of course!" Anne gushed. "Who doesn't know about Linda? She's so 'groovy' as the Americans would say." Ulysses and Sarah chuckled.

"Yes, Linda is quite special." Ulysses replied.

"Oh, she is. She and Chris are just such a joy to be around-"

"Chris?" Ulysses stopped her. "Who's Chris?"

"He's her boyfriend." Anne's eyes widened. "You haven't met him? They've been dating for a while now." Sarah and Ulysses looked at each other.

"How long are we talking?" He asked, looking back at Anne, scowling. She blew out a puff of air.

"Maybe two or three months or so." Sarah blinked, trying to comprehend what the mysterious girl was saying.

"Are you sure you're talking about Linda?" She finally asked.

"Oh, of course. I see them together every day around the grounds. They're madly in love." She clasped her hands together in front of her chest. "It's so encouraging to see for those of us that are single." Anne nodded happily and looked between them, hiding a smirk at Ulysses's extremely tight lipped face.

"Will you excuse us?" He said curtly, abruptly walking past her. Sarah huffed in worry and smiled at her

"Nice talking to you." She quickly shuffled to catch up with her husband and Anne scoffed.

"Oh, it was nice talking to you too," she muttered, walking down the corridor with a strange spring in her step. She saw Chris exactly where she thought he would be: sitting on a bench by himself in the courtyard, lounging back and reading a book. She smiled and started to walk toward him, dying to share the good news...

"Ulysses," Sarah said as she followed close behind him. "Calm down-"

"Calm down?! Calm down when our daughter has been possibly lying to us for months?!" He increased the length and speed of his strides.

"I'm sure there's been a misunderstanding. Let's just ask her about it," she said as she fought to keep up. "Give her a chance to explain."

"Oh, you're damn right I'm going to give her a chance to explain." Ulysses threw the door to the girls' dorm house open and stormed inside. Sarah took a deep breath, knowing he was past the point of reasoning.

"Oh, Linda," she whispered as she followed him. "I hope this isn't true..."

Across the courtyard, Anne was slowly sauntering up to Chris, her hands in the pockets of her dress.

"You know, you've got some real nerve, Chris." Chris looked up from his book. "Dating a girl like Linda with her type of reputation. Especially in secret." She stopped to stare at him. "It's rather sad that you actually thought that you would get away with it." What in the world, he thought to himself as he shut his book slowly.

"What are you talking about?"

"i just don't see what the appeal is with Linda," Anne said, pulling a hand out of her pocket to examine her nails. "She's nothing special, she's just a smarty pants compared to the rest of us." Chris stared at her, not sure on how to respond to what she was saying. "Well, since you are obviously not understanding what I mean, let's just say I solved the problem. Your problem." A sickeningly sweet smile spread across her face and Chris felt his stomach sink…

* * *

Linda and Fran walked down the hall to their room and strangely found the door open. They looked at each and looked inside to see Ulysses and Sarah quietly arguing amongst themselves.

"Mother, Father," Linda squeaked. They turned to look at her and she gripped her books close to her chest. "What are you doing here?"

"We came for a visit with Dr. Teany," Ulysses said stiffly. "Though that is no longer the plan." Linda retreated inwardly at her father's extremely angry glare. "Fran," he barked, making Fran jump. "Will you please excuse us? This is a private family conversation." With a nod, and a look of uncertainty toward Linda, Fran set her bag down, left the room and quickly walked down the hall. She needed to find Chris, and she needed to find him fast.

"Shut the door, Linda," Ulysses commanded. As she turned her back to him, she shut her eyes, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach. She set her books down on the table by the door and turned back around. "I hope what we've heard isn't true."

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you dating someone here?" She swallowed nervously.

"Who told you I was?" She asked, hoping the shaking in her voice wasn't too obvious.

"One of your classmates, I suppose. I didn't catch her name."

"And you believed her?" She cleared her throat to cover the crack of her voice.

"I have no reason not to. If you have nothing to hide, the question should be easy to answer. So, I ask you again, Linda: Are. You. Dating someone?"

Linda's mind worked furiously to come up with an answer, but each time she opened her mouth, her words failed her. She must've stayed silent for too long, because Ulysses scoffed, shaking his head.

"Well, your silence is a very loud answer," he said grimly. Linda looked down to her feet. "So is it true that this relationship has been going for three months now?" She was too afraid to answer him. "And that you're in love with him?" She tightened her grip on her closed fist, biting her lip. Clearing his throat, Ulysses straightened his blazer. "Well, I'm sorry, Linda, but you're not going to carry this on any longer. You're going to break up with him today." Linda's head shot up.

"No," she answered before she could stop herself.

"Excuse me?" Ulysses said, ignoring Sarah's coo of his name to calm him down.

"No," she said a little louder, trying to keep the shaking in her voice under control. "I'm not breaking up with him." Ulysses's face went from slightly irritated to extremely angry.

"Ulysses-" Sarah stressed, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"How dare you tell me no!" he suddenly shouted, making Sarah flinch. Linda, however, didn't move an inch. "Young lady, I don't know what's happened to you since you came here, but don't you forget that you have obligations you've agreed to-"

"You mean forced on me," Linda said suddenly, cowering inwardly at her parents' wide eyed expressions.

"I can't believe your nerve!" Ulysses said, quickly recovering from his shock. "This conversation is over. I'm going to admissions and pulling your records and you're coming home with your mother and I today." The world stopped at his words. Linda could feel the stitches of her conscious starting to unravel in the face of the pressure from Ulysses. For the first time in her life, she really hated him as he stared at her like she was a common criminal.

"Like hell I am," she said before her mind could talk her out of saying it. Sarah gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. Ulysses balked.

"I hope to God that I didn't just hear you curse at me! That boyfriend of yours is a horrible-"

"Don't you say anything about Chris! You don't even know him!"

"I don't really care about who he is, Linda," Ulysses replied. "Oxford will be glad to accept you, I can put in a word to Professor-"

"You're not sending me away!"

"Linda, please-" Sarah pleaded.

"Now, you listen well, young lady!" Ulysses cut across. "If I drag you out of here by your hair kicking and screaming, I will!" Linda shook where she stood, her nails digging painfully into her palms as Ulysses walked up next to her. "You have had your fun, but now it's time to say your goodbyes because it ends...NOW." With one last disappointed look, he walked out of the room. Sarah sighed worriedly, looking to her daughter, who looked as though she was about to be sick.

"Darling, I'm…" She trailed off and shook her head, sweeping past Linda and leaving her to stand alone.

* * *

"Stop playing games. What did you do?" Chris was at his limit with Anne's mysterious teasing.

"You know, you look so adorable when you're confused, Chris." He opened his mouth to dish out a reply, but a large, bushy head of red hair running across the grounds toward them stopped him.

"Linda's parents are here," Fran panted as she stopped. The realization of what Anne was talking about finally hit him, and he turned to her with a furious glare. To his surprise, she looked positively serene and peaceful.

"It's for the best in the end that they find out about you. That way you can stop living a lie."

"Who the hell are you to play God?" Chris stormed up to Anne, getting extremely close to her face. She didn't look the slightest bit fazed by his sudden move and was even more unmoved by his lunge that was held back by Fran when she grabbed his arm.

"Chris! Don't!"

"You know, I'm just reminding you of who you are, because you seem to have forgotten," Anne hissed. "What made you think you could actually be with her? She's a genius, Chris and you're just an ordinary moron. You're not even smart enough to spit in her direction." Fran's grip on his arm tightened as Chris practically snarled, trying to lunge again.

"Chris, stop!" She pleaded. "Don't do anything you'll regret!" As soon as the words left her mouth, the doors to the girls' dorm house slammed open and everyone looked to see Ulysses storm out, followed closely by Sarah, who sounded as though she was frantically trying to talk him down. Fran let go of Chris's arm and ran back toward the dorm house. With a satisfied smile, Anne looked up at him.

"Well, I think you have bigger problems to attend to now. Good luck with getting out of this one, Chris." With one last lingering disgusted look, she walked past him and toward the dining hall. He had half a mind to go after her and finish their argument, but he forced himself to walk away, turning around to jog after Fran, who was right at the steps when he caught up to her.

Suddenly, the door opened again and Linda slowly walked out as though she was in a trance, her face extremely pale. She stopped and stood at the top of the steps, looking down at the ground.

"Linda," Fran whispered. "What happened?" Linda didn't say anything, but looked up, her eyes briefly flashing to Chris before she started to walk down the steps, each step looking as though it was taking an extreme effort to navigate.

"Linda, what's wrong?" Chris asked. Linda shook her head and started to walk past him, but stopped when he grabbed her wrist. She pulled away sharply.

"Leave me alone."

"No, what happened?" Chris grabbed her again and she spun around.

"Let me go!" She shouted, making Fran jump and people around them stop to stare. Chris grabbed her around the shoulders and pulled her into his embrace, tightening his grip as she tried to fight him off. "Stop! Stop it!" She yelled into his shoulder, whimpering as she punched him over and over in his chest and stomach. Slowly, she started to weakened until she was limp in his arms and clinging onto him for dear life. Chris rubbed her back gently.

"Let's go and talk," he said quietly in her ear and she nodded, letting him take her hand and lead her down the corridor and around toward the back of the school, down the hill and to a small pond. They sat on a bench and looked out across the water.

"I'm sorry," Linda sniffled after a few minutes, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her throw. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," Chris lied, his body aching from where she punched him. "Henry should give you some pointers sometime on how to properly beat me to a pulp." His crack at lightening up the mood only served to increase the deafening silence between them. "That was your parents coming out of the dorm house, wasn't it?" He finally asked. Linda slowly nodded, sniffling again. "I'm guessing they know about me." He looked at her from the corner of his eye. Her face was stone blank.

"They're pulling me out of the university." Her statement was empty of all emotion. Chris closed his eyes.

"And you're letting them?"

"What choice do I have?" She whispered.

"You always have a choice," he automatically replied and that made Linda suddenly get up and storm away from him. "Linda!" He got up and went after her, grabbing her wrist to spin her around to face him.

"I wish you would stop saying that," she said, pulling her wrist out of his grip. Her blue eyes blazed with anger. "Why do you keep saying that when you know perfectly well that there is no such thing as 'choice' when it comes to my parents?"

"You're facing a choice right now, whether you realize it or not." Chris grabbed her arms. "You can lay down and let them have their way or you can stand up to them." He paused, his expression softening as he cupped her cheek. Poor Linda looked so angry and scared.

"I'm seventeen, Chris; my father can pull my records."

"Not without your consent. It's university policy."

"Which doesn't matter to him. You don't understand how much influence he has. He makes the world bend to his will just by lifting his finger. He _will_ get his way." Linda hiccupped back a sob. "I'm a prisoner in my own life, Chris."

He kissed her forehead and pulled her into a hug. "What's to stop you from challenging him?" he murmured in her ear. _Obligation, expectation, regulation, _her mind answered. Those were the guidelines that she had based her whole life on. But she hadn't taken into account exactly how Chris would fit into her already amazingly organized world. If anything, his presence made it go completely bonkers. He pulled her back from him and she felt his fingers gently grip her chin to bring her eyes up.

"Linda, you know that I love you, right?" He asked softly. She nodded. "Then trust me when I say you need to talk to your parents. I know," he said quickly as she balked at his words. "That it seems like the least likely solution to the problem, but in reality, it's the best option you have; the best option _we_ have." She shook her head.

"No."

"Linda-"

"I won't do it, Chris," she said through clenched teeth. He sighed and let her go, turning around to walk away from her. "You don't know my father; he doesn't listen when he's angry." She called after him. "If anything, it'll just make him more determined to get me as far away from you as possible." She panted in desperation. "I can't just talk to him about this!" She yelled, making Chris stop in his tracks. He took a deep breath and turned around, watching her silently with a mixed expression of anger and heartbreak.

"Then I guess you really don't love me as much as you say you do," he said so plainly that she had stop and make sure she didn't hear him wrong. Instantly, her eyes narrowed.

"You," she growled, storming right up to him and getting in his face. "Are an insufferable son of a bitch!" The words hit him like a slap, but he forced himself to keep silent. "How can you say that when I have risked everything to be with you?!" She raged, practically on the verge of screaming.

"So you really love me, then?" He calmly challenged.

"More than my own life!"

"Then prove it, Linda. Show me how far you're willing to go to keep us together." She blinked and backed up from him, spinning around to look off into the trees of the forest surrounding the university. She felt Chris watching her back, waiting for her answer as her mind began to race.

It all came down to her decision: to fight or to stay silent. If she stood up to her parents, it was very likely that she would fail and her father would make sure she and Chris never spoke again, but if she let them take her away, she would hate herself for the rest of her life, and never forgive herself for not trying at least trying to fight back.

_Life is about risks, and sometimes the biggest risks of all have some of the greatest rewards attached._

Peter's words echoed in her mind, silencing the other voices that were fighting for control. She remembered how heartbroken he felt about Jolene, knowing that he was going to have to spend the rest of his life without her. Linda felt her chest ache as she thought about her life without Chris...

_There isn't one._

Linda took a deep breath.

_Fight for him, for your relationship...for you._

Though she trembled at the words, an overwhelming sense of peace fell on her as she turned around.

"Will you come with me?" She asked him softly. With a gentle smile, he walked up to her and took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"We're in this together." Hand in hand, they walked together up the hill and back toward the university, determination making them stand tall, but worry weighing down on their shoulders.


	13. Chapter Thirteen- Dark Night of the Soul

**Chapter Thirteen – The Dark Night of the Soul  
**

"Ulysses, is this really necessary?" Sarah asked tensely as they sat, waiting for Ulysses's old friend and the Chancellor, Fred, to come back into the office with Linda's school records. He shifted in his chair at her scalding look in his direction.

"I'm protecting her, Sarah," Ulysses said simply. "She's our only daughter, I have to do what I can to ensure she succeeds in life."

"But ripping her out of university just because she's been carrying on a secret relationship?" She threw up her hand in exasperation. "What about her schoolwork and her end of term exams? What about her friends?" Ulysses cleared his throat and continued to stare ahead. "My God, do you realize what you're doing? You're about to break Linda's trust in us, and it's all because you always have to be in control of what she's doing!" He held back his surprise at her fierce tone; Sarah was usually very quiet, and to hear her get legitimately angry with him wasn't something he was used to.

"It's not control, Sarah," he said patiently, as if talking to a small child. "It's guidance and protection. Linda is seventeen years old, she has no concept of what's good for her and what's not." Sarah scoffed.

"So you're saying you don't trust your own daughter." He fell silent.

"I don't trust her judgment," he finally answered. She opened her mouth to reply, but the door opened and Fred walked in, clearing his throat.

"All right, here we are, Ulysses." He sat down with Linda's records and got a pen. "I'll just need you to sign the release." Taking the pen, Ulysses signed on the dotted line. "I'm so sorry to be seeing Linda going. The mathematics department loves her. But I agree with you, Oxford would suit her academic goals better." Sarah's eyes slid over to Ulysses, who didn't reply but just smiled. A small, plump woman knocked softly on the door.

"Sir," she addressed Fred. "The Gregorys' daughter has asked to speak to her parents alone. She's next door in the conference room," she told Ulysses and Sarah. They looked at each other and stood to their feet, Ulysses gripping Linda's records in his hand as the woman led down the hall and into the open conference room. Linda was sitting on the table and Chris was leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed as though he was in deep thought.

The woman shut the door behind them and everyone stared at each other in awkward silence. Linda slowly got to her feet and walked to Chris's side.

"Mother, Father," she said as she took his hand in hers. "This is Chris…my boyfriend," he clarified. Chris smiled cautiously.

"It's nice to meet you," he said politely with a nod. Sarah looked as though she wanted to say something, but she decided against it as Ulysses stood taller and cleared his throat.

"Linda, what is this about?" He asked shortly. "Did you bring Chris here thinking I would instantly change my mind if I met him?" Linda took a shaky breath.

"Father, please-"

"I already have your records." He held up the file to show them. "And I expect you to start packing as soon as this discussion is over." Sarah moved toward Linda, but Ulysses raised his hand to stop her. "Do you understand?" The tension was so thick, Chris swore a chainsaw couldn't cut through it. Linda let go of his hand and took a protective stance in front of him, her expression likened to a tiger ready to pounce.

"Why do you insist on treating me like a child?" Ulysses frowned.

"I only want what's best for you-" he started.

"Oh my God-" Linda cut herself off and laughed bitterly. "God, I am so _sick_ of hearing that excuse," she growled. Chris tensed, bracing himself internally for the argument about to ensue. "All of my life," Linda shouted, which made both of her parents' eyes widen. "It seems like everyone always knows what's good for me and I'm just some bump on a log!" Ulysses opened his mouth, but Linda's voice rose. "Why do you call me a genius, yet treat like I'm a bloody idiot?!" Chris saw the shadow of anger settle onto Ulysses's face.

"Now, you listen to me, Linda!" He said, getting close to her face, despite Sarah's lunge to grab his arm. "I'm your father and though it may not seem like it right at this moment, I only want what's best for you," he stressed his repeated statement. "And he," he said with a dark glare toward Chris. "Is not it." Chris clenched his jaw and returned Ulysses's hostile glare with one of his own.

"What would you know about what's best for me?!" Linda spat. "You wouldn't know what was best for me if it got up and smacked you in the face!" Ulysses balked. "You can't see an inch outside of your reputation to even give an ounce of thought about what's best for me!"

"Excuse me?!" He yelled, pulling his arm out of Sarah's grip to point in Linda's face. "It's because of my success that I can offer you and your mother the best of life! What does he have to offer you?!" He pointed to Chris. "He looks like he can barely afford fish and chips, much less give you a life that you deserve!" The words cut across the room and punched Chris in the stomach. His knuckles turned white as he painfully clenched his fists, trying his damnedest to keep himself calm.

"You arrogant-" Linda started, taking a step forward.

"Linda, don't." He reached out and grabbed her arm to pull her back.

"Get your hand off of my daughter!" Ulysses suddenly yelled, pinning Chris with a stare that could've ripped him to shreds. He froze and reluctantly released his grip.

Sarah whimpered and ran up to Linda's side. "Ulysses, stop!" She roughly pushed him back. "Stop this, just stop this!" Her voice broke with grief as she held Linda close to her side. "Leave her alone! My God, she's your child, not your enemy!" Sarah's eyes glistened with tears and her bottom lip quivered. "You're breaking my heart! Just! Stop!" The room fell silent at her plea. Everyone seemed to be emotionally ready to fall apart; it was just a matter of who would be the first to fall.

Ulysses cleared his throat, clearly disturbed by his wife's strong reaction to what was happening.

"This discussion is over," he said tightly, trying his best to sound calm. "Sarah, go help Linda pack her bags-"

"I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE!"

"YES! YOU! ARE!" Ulysses roared each word, his eyes wild with anger. "I've had ENOUGH of your games, Linda! You and Chris are finished," Chris closed his eyes at his words. "And you will never see him again!" Linda lunged at him with a strangled yell, but Sarah quickly held her waist, her pleading drowned by the grunts and screams of struggle.

"I hate you!" Linda screamed, fighting with every ounce of strength she could. "You selfish bastard-!" Her cheek stung as his hand reached out and struck her with a harsh slap. Chris growled and against his better judgment, he started to move, but Sarah let out a strangled sob and held him back with one arm as she held Linda close to her chest with her other arm.

"One more word, and I swear to God, you'll be sorry!" Before anyone could say anything else, Ulysses ripped open the door and stormed out of the room and past the shocked office staff, who were all watching them with wide eyes.

"Oh, Linda," Sarah cradled her to her chest. "Linda, he didn't mean it, he didn't-" Linda forced herself out of her mother's embrace and whimpered as she stumbled into Chris's arms, holding her burning cheek. She clung to him, trembling and crying into his chest. He stroked her head numbly, feeling as though he had the life sucked out of him.

"Linda..." He brushed his lips in her hair. "...we...we tried." He fought to keep his voice steady. "You…" He closed his eyes. "You should do what your father says," he finally said after a couple of tense seconds. Linda stared at him, the cheek where she was slapped burning an angry red.

"No," she said quickly, panting to keep herself under control. "We can run away together, Chris." Her words slurred together. "Chris, we can just disappear. We can get married." She gripped his shirt. "Don't you want to marry me?" she asked desperately. He cupped her face.

"Not like this, Linda," he said sadly as he stroked her slapped cheek with his thumb. And besides, even if they wanted to, they couldn't run off; legally, Linda wasn't an adult and her parents could just as easily drag her back.

"You…you're taking his side," she whimpered.

"No, I'm not taking his side. But before we make things worse…just…" Chris stopped, taking a deep breath. "Do as he asks." He let suddenly let Linda go and walked out of the room. She stared, panting softly in disbelief and tripped over herself as she started to go after him.

"I thought you wanted me to fight back!" She screamed across the office, stopping all of the activity around them. "That's what you wanted me to do, wasn't it, Chris?!"

"Yes, that's what I wanted!" he yelled as he spun around to face her. "But I didn't want you to get hurt!" He looked to her red cheek and felt his heart lurch. It was because of him that she had that mark on her face. It was because of him that Sarah was trying her best to hold her broken heart together. It was because of him that Ulysses was on the rampage, like a hurricane that had raged out of control.

It was all because of him.

"Your father's right, Linda." He looked away with a sigh. "I'm not good enough for you." Linda felt her knees give out and she gripped the door frame.

"What the _hell_ are you talking about?!" She raged. "Since when did that matter to you?!"

"Since now," he answered before turning away to leave. He ignored her bark of his name as he opened the door to the outside corridor and bumped into Fran. She looked at him and her face fell with concern.

"Chris, what happened?" He swallowed.

"Linda's leaving." The words came out strangled and quiet.

"What?!" Her jaw dropped open as he started to walk, his mind racing a million miles an hour, barely comprehending everything that was happening. "Why is she leaving?" Fran ran after him.

"Because her parents can take her and I told her to."

"You TOLD her to leave?!" Fran repeated, not bothering to hide her shock. "Why did you do that?"

"Because." Chris stopped and turned around to face her. "You should've seen what happened in there, Fran." The memory of Ulysses slapping her made him cringe. "I don't want to cause any more pain and heartache for Linda…I've already caused enough," he finished sadly. Fran opened her mouth to reply, but the office door opened again and Linda walked out supported by Sarah, who was holding her close and petting her hair as she talked softly to her. They started to walk across the grounds and toward the girls' dorm.

"I…." Fran looked at Chris one last time and ran off after them, leaving him to stand alone in the corridor, looking on as the roar of his own guilt drowned him in sorrow...

* * *

Fran watched in silence as the driver loaded Linda's bags into the trunk of the limousine. He closed it with a slam that cut across the tense air.

"All ready to go, Dr. Gregory."

"Thank you, Timothy." Ulysses opened the back seat door, gesturing to the inside. "Ladies first." Sarah started to walk toward the car, but Linda lingered behind.

"Can I say goodbye...one last time?" Ulysses started to open his mouth, but Sarah gave him a scathing look that told him to let her. He closed his mouth, curtly nodded and let Sarah into the back seat before following her. The door shut and Linda turned around to walk up to Fran, sniffling.

"Oh, Linda..." Fran reached out and hugged her. Linda buried her face in her coarse, bushy red hair.

"I'll miss you, Fran," she choked. For awhile, they held each other tightly in silence. Finally, when she felt she was strong enough, Linda slowly pulled away and sniffled, the question of where Chris was getting stuck in her throat. But she didn't have to wonder long; she looked up and saw that Chris was strolling down the hill toward the car, his hands in his pockets. He stopped beside Fran and they stared at each other for a couple of seconds before Linda moved to pull him into her arms, hugging his neck tightly.

"I'll never regret what we had," she said in his ear as she felt his arms encircle her waist.

"What we HAVE," he correctly, tightening his grip. She rested her head on his shoulder and sniffled as his hand caressed her back gently. Reluctantly, she pulled back and kissed his cheek gently, turning to walk down to the limousine.

But as she got to the door, she suddenly stopped, looked over her shoulder and turned back around, sprinting up the hill to Chris and practically jumping in his arms with a whimper, desperately kissing wherever her lips could touch: his eyelids, his forehead, his cheeks, his chin. He held her head as he took her lips and she caressed his face, his shoulders and his chest, trying her best to hang onto every memory, every last moment in his arms...

They slowly parted, touching foreheads to catch their breath. With one last gentle kiss, Linda turned around and walked back down to the car numbly, opening the door to plop herself inside on the seat across from her parents. The limousine drove off silently, and Fran and Chris watched it with heavy hearts. Slowly, Fran looped her arm into his and rested her head on his shoulder, sighing.

"You know," she said softly. "You may say that you're not good enough for her," She looked up to his sad profile. "But you, Chris Holmes, were the best thing that ever happened to her." With a sad smile, she squeezed his arm tenderly and walked off, leaving him to stare off down the road, his heart sinking with each inch the car traveled..

* * *

As the university disappeared into the background, Linda felt herself go into a state of numbness, the wave of grief and rage engulfing her in a tomb of her own self induced misery. Blankly, she stared out the window and retreated into herself, delving into a place within her mind where there was nothing but darkness, nothing but silence. She held her chest and closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. Ulysses watched her, a hand over his mouth in thought.

"This is for the best," he said softly, more to himself than to Sarah. She scoffed.

"Keep telling yourself that, Ulysses," she said bitterly, scooting away from him to put as much space between them as possible as she looked out the window to watch the landscape pass by in a blur.


	14. Chapter Fourteen - Choices

**Chapter Fourteen – Choices**

"Chris, please, it's been days. You need to eat something." The dining hall seemed quieter than usual as Michael pushed a plate of toast toward Chris, who looked at it briefly before going back to staring blankly at the table.

"I'm not hungry," he said, seemingly for the umpteenth time. He saw Melody guiltily look down at her plate of eggs and push them around with her fork.

"I'm worried about you," Michael said, his brow furrowing. "You can't keep this up forever, you know."

"I can try," Chris replied grimly, pushing the plate of toast back toward Michael.

"Chris, please," Melody pleaded. "Linda wouldn't want you to starve yourself to death." He flinched at her words.

"But Linda's not around to care, is she?" He said with pointed look. She visibly paled and swallowed, going back to her eggs and stabbing them with her fork loudly. Michael cleared his throat.

"Chris-" he started, but before he could finish, Chris got up abruptly with his bag and left the dining hall, the slam of the doors echoing and briefly silencing the chatter around them. Melody threw down her fork.

"He hates me," she said sadly.

"No, darling, he doesn't hate you," Michael soothed her as he held her shoulders. "You weren't the one that went and told Linda's parents about him."

"But I gave Anne the information," she replied, biting her lip. "I didn't mean to hurt him..." She sniffled as a tear fell down her cheek.

"Melody, don't blame yourself for this." Michael hugged her. "Anne was the one that was out to get him, not you, and he knows that. He's just...depressed right now. Give him some time, he'll come around." Melody wasn't the least bit comforted by his words, and before Michael could try to soothe her anymore, she grabbed her bag and slung it on her shoulder, ignoring Michael's call to bring her back. She walked out of the dining hall and down the open corridor, her thoughts lost in the torn emotions that rested in her chest like a ton of bricks.

"Hi, Melody!" She turned and saw Anne waving cheerfully as she strolled up to her side. "Haven't seen you around lately." Her arm linked into Melody's and she hummed happily as they walked. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" She asked with a smile on her face.

"I'm not talking to you," Melody said tightly, pulling her arm away from Anne and walking faster to get away from her. With a huff, Anne followed her.

"What? You're my best friend; you can't just stop talking to me."

"I can and I am," Melody barked as she spun around, almost making Anne crash into her. "How can you be so happy when you know what you've done to him?" Anne's face turned blank. "Because of you, Chris is about this close." She held up her thumb and forefinger between their faces. "To losing his mind."

"And how is that my fault?" Anne shot back with a scoff. "I can't help the way he responds to things happening. You know he's moody…he's actually kind of cute when he pouts," she said with a small smile.

"This is not funny, Anne," Melody snapped.

"Why are you mad at me?" A look of utter confusion screwed up Anne's face. "You should be mad at Chris; he was the one in the wrong. Dating Linda behind her parents' back, it wasn't decent. And she's underage! Quite the scandal, if you ask me."

"And what concern was that of yours?" Anne opened her mouth to answer, but shut it and shook her head.

"Melody, why can't you see that I did the right thing?"

"The right thing?" Melody repeated, not believing what she was hearing.

"They were living a lie," Anne reasoned. "I had to stop it before it got too far. Before Chris got hurt and in trouble."

"Are you daft?!" Melody shouted, making everyone stop around them. "Chris was happy with Linda, the happiest he had ever been! You just couldn't stand it that he was happy with someone that wasn't you!" Anne looked as though she was about to reach out and strangle her.

"You better watch what you're saying, Melody." The look of controlled insanity on her face made Melody's skin crawl. "You seem to be forgetting that I saw him first. I liked him long before that stupid bitch ever even gave him the time of day. I would've given Chris the world if he asked me to; all Linda gave him was a fantasy that there was no way he could have held on to. Don't you see?" She grabbed Melody's sleeve. "I broke them apart because I love him enough to protect him." Melody shook her head.

"How can you be so heartless?" She asked softly, tugging her arm away from Anne's grip. Anne clenched her jaw.

"If that's what I am, then fine. But he'll thank me one day," she said with a nod and smile. "I know he will." With those last words, she walked off and left Melody to stare after her, the conversation ringing in her ears...

* * *

The end of term was quickly approaching and every student on the grounds was engaged in what seemed to be the largest joint cram session of their lives for final exams. Michael left his math class and walked out into the open corridor, looking around for Chris but he wasn't there. He sighed and started to stroll slowly toward the dorm house. A month had gone by since Linda left and Chris was no better off than the first day she was gone. It was actually quite frightening to watch Chris slowly disappear and be replaced by a former shell of himself, but Michael still held out hope that something, anything, would get his friend to snap out of his limbo state of mind.

He felt a body collide into him and without thinking about it, he grabbed the mysterious person to steady them as they swayed.

"Whoa, sorry-" he looked down and was shocked to see a familiar face staring back at him. "Linda?" He said disbelievingly, releasing her suddenly. Linda stumbled back, looking around wildly. "What are you doing here?" It took a minute for her to calm down, but her breathing finally relaxed and she swallowed.

"I was here to take my exams," she said shakily, fixing her gaze back on Michael. "I took them away from everyone else in the main office." Michael stared at her, lost for words to say. "Why isn't Chris with you?" She asked warily.

"I haven't seen him all day. He's probably hiding away somewhere." She fidgeted at his words, looking down to her feet and brushing her hand over shirt.

"How is he?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" She suddenly looked up and shook her head.

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" Michael asked as he clenched his jaw.

"I'm just here to take my exams; I'm supposed to leave right after I'm finished."

"You can't stay a few extra minutes?" She stared at him, seemingly confused at the edge of anger in his voice.

"I can, but I won't," she said tightly, starting to walk off.

"Oh, no you don't!" He grabbed her wrist, sharply tugging her back toward him. "You have to tell Chris you're here."

"No," Linda pulled her wrist out of his grip. "Do you know how much convincing I had to do to even come back within ten miles of here?" She asked. "Father has some of the professors watching me to make sure that I don't do anything foolish. I can't risk even trying to see him. Mike, please," she stressed. "You can't tell him you saw me." With a growl of frustration, Michael grabbed her shoulders and held her, shaking her slightly.

"Linda, you should see him. He's gone like a zombie since you left." She blinked and looked away. "He barely eats, he can't sleep and he hasn't written a thing." She closed her eyes at his words. "I swear to God, if you don't go find Chris and talk to him, I will make him come find you." Linda's eyes snapped open and narrowed to slits as she looked at him.

"Don't do that, Mike," she said tensely. "You'll only make things worse."

"Worse than they are now?!" Michael shook Linda harder, his anger taking complete hold of him. "Did you not just hear me say that Chris is about to waste away to a sack of bones over you?!" He practically shouted in her face. "Don't you care about the fact that he's miserable?!"

"I heard you." Linda pushed against his chest and stumbled back. "And of course I care, but you're not listening. I. Can't. See him."

"Because it will give him hope that you'll come back one day or because it'll break your heart to see him?" She took a deep breath.

"Both," she finally answered, backing up. "Please don't tell him you saw me." She pleaded one last time as she turned around to walk off, hugging herself as she fought back tears. She prayed that Michael was just exaggerating, that he was making things sound worse than they really were with Chris. She couldn't bear to think about what would happen if she saw him, what she would say or do if she saw him in such a condition.

As she walked across the courtyard and tried to gain a hold of her conflicting emotions, she felt a gaze burning into her back.

Against her better judgment, she stopped and turned to see Chris staring at her from the other side of the courtyard. Her heart plummeted to the ground as her eyes scanned him; he looked thinner and paler, the dark bags under his eyes and sharp cheekbones incredibly noticeable even from a distance. The intensity of his unbelieving stare made her panic and as his bag dropped from his shoulder, he took off at a dead run toward her, and she quickly turned back around and started to run away. She panted hard as she ran down the hillside and furiously looked around for a place to hide. Weaving off into the forest, she hid behind a large tree and held a stitch in her side, panting as quietly as she could as she heard his footsteps coming up fast.

His footsteps strolled around slowly for a few seconds and stopped. She closed her eyes, praying that he thought he was seeing things and would just leave without saying anything.

"Linda, I know you're here," Chris called, his voice sounding weak from the effort of running. "Don't worry; I won't make you come out from where you're hiding." She opened her eyes and panted quietly. "I just want to talk to you…you can just listen..." She waited, holding her breath.

"I...I. Miss. You. So. Much." He labored on each word, taking a shaky breath. Linda held her fist to her chest, biting her lip. "I feel like half of me is gone without you here, that part of my world is dead. I'm…not sure if that's a good thing or not. At least you have a piece of me to carry with you, but it's at the expense of my own misery." He took a deep breath.

"You look beautiful today." His voice brightened up a bit. "If I had known you were coming, I would've at least put on a better shirt." She smiled sadly and shook her head at his casual words; he was trying to make it feel as though it was just a normal conversation, that nothing had changed.

"I know," he started again, bitterness creeping into his voice. "That compared to you, I'm a blubbering idiot and that I didn't deserve our relationship...and that I didn't deserve you." She closed her eyes. "But that never mattered to me because when I looked at you…I didn't just see the genius that you are and that everyone can plainly see; I saw a woman -THE woman- that gave me a reason to exist. I saw the love of my life...and I saw my best friend." She clenched her dress in her fist, her face scrunching up as she held back a sob.

"I'm selfish when it comes to you, Linda," he continued. "I don't want to have to live my life without you, but I suppose...I have no choice at this point. All I ask is… when you finally find true happiness, please don't ever forget what we had…what we HAVE," he finished sadly. With those last words, his footsteps started to retreat. The silence that followed was tense and Linda peaked around the tree to see his back as he strode up the hill and back toward the university.

"Oh, Chris," she whispered as she hugged herself around the waist and turned around to walk farther into the forest, barely able to see through the thick veil of tears that burned in her eyes and hear over the echoes of her sobs...

* * *

Michael sighed and laid his head back against the wall. He still couldn't believe that Linda had been at the university and that she had refused to see Chris. He was pretty sure that if Chris ever found out that he missed his chance to see her, he would probably go mad. No, he wouldn't tell him. It was already hard enough to see Chris bleeding, much less adding an open wound to his ever growing list of emotional injuries.

As if right on cue, Chris walked into the room and shut the door behind him, sitting silently on his bed. Michael moved his pencil across his worksheet to feign working, but watched his friend from beneath his lashes.

Chris suddenly reached to open his bag and pulled out a small bundle, setting it next to him. To Michael's delight, two muffins revealed themselves and he tore one up into bite sized pieces, sniffing a piece before slowly putting it into his mouth.

"So you saw her, then."

Chris didn't reply, but continued to chew, staring off into an unknown space by the end of Michael's bed.

"How are we feeling about that?" Michael pressed, making Chris look at him in utter annoyance.

"You really should stop wearing so much cologne. It's making you smell like a dumpster." Though Michael knew he should've been offended, he couldn't help but smile at Chris's droll words with a hint -just a hint- of teasing.

"I'll tone it down next time," he replied with a soft chuckle. Chris laid back, putting the muffin on his chest to continue eating, thinking back to his words to Linda earlier. Seeing her even for just those few precious seconds was like a breathe of fresh air in the midst of being underwater. Even though she ran from him, he knew that it was for the best that she did; it would've hurt them both too much to be reunited for such a short length of time. And he wasn't sure that if he got a hold of her that he would be able to let her go again.

Linda looked well off, and all he ever wanted was for her to be happy.

"Even if it's not with me," he finished out loud in a low whisper.

"What?"

"Nothing." Chris turned his head and continued to eat small bites of muffin, gazing into the wall beside his bed and likening it to the canvas of his life without Linda: Blank. Empty. Meaningless.

* * *

"Miss Linda," Esther called from the other side of the closed bedroom door. "Your father is requesting to see you in his office."

From by the windowsill, Linda folded the worn piece of paper with Chris's poem on it and tucked it away again in the drawer by her bedside. As she passed by the mirror, she fluffed her curls and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She and Ulysses had yet to speak more than a few words to each other since the confrontation at the university, and though she had been called down to her father's office before, it never ended well.

She followed Esther down the stairs and to the office, where Ulysses was busily typing on a typewriter. He looked up at the soft knock on the door.

"Oh, Linda, there you are." He leaned back from the typewriter. "Come, have a seat. Thank you, Esther."

With a quick curtsey, Esther took her leave and shut the door behind her. Linda slowly walked to the desk and took a seat in the chair that he motioned to, and fixed herself to sit as tall as she could, hands folded in her lap. For a few seconds, they stared at each other, and then Ulysses cleared his throat.

"How did your exams go?"

"Fine," Linda said simply, trying her best to sound as polite as possible.

"Good then, that's...good." They fell silent again, and Linda picked at a stray thread on her skirt. "I know that we haven't exactly been on the best of terms the last few weeks," he finally said, stroking the black, bushy mustache that graced the top of his lip. "I understand that how I acted toward you last month was...not exactly traditional."

Linda stared at him.

"In fact, you could go so far as to say that it was out of line," he continued with a thoughtful look on his face. "But you should understand that you were wrong to lie to your mother and I about what you were doing, Linda. We let you go to university so that you could get an education and further expands your talents in mathematics."

"Well, my apologies for doing that and also trying to partake in normal university life at the same time," Linda said flatly.

"We certainly didn't send you," he continued as though she hadn't spoken. "To carry on a secret relationship, especially with some-" he paused and Linda clenched her jaw.

"Some what?" she asked quietly, taking great care to stress each word. At the pressing silence to her question, she stood to her feet. "You know, Father, if this is some sort of apology that you're trying to make, forgive me, but I don't accept it." She spun around and walked toward the door.

"I've invited Paul over for dinner; he'll be here in a few hours. I expect that you'll be ready in time?" Her hand froze on the doorknob at the very casual and friendly inquiry and she scoffed.

"Do I even have a choice in the matter?" With more force than what was probably necessary, she slammed open the door and walked back down the hall to the stairs. As she paused at the staircase to try and collect herself from the amount of rage that was coursing through her entire body, she heard a small voice whisper from the deepest part of her:

_You always have a choice._


	15. Chapter Fifteen - A Reunion

**Chapter Fifteen - A Reunion**

She never realized how far up from the ground that the balcony was until that moment.

Linda stood on the wide railing, the summer wind gently blowing her hair in every direction as she watched into the pitch black underneath her. She couldn't take it anymore; the pain of losing Chris was too much for her to bare.

She closed her eyes as the wind blew again, pushing her hair back over her shoulders.

_I'm sorry..._

A tear rolled down her cheek, flying away at another gentle gust of wind…perhaps he would forgive her someday...

_**Linda.**_

Her eyes snapped open. It couldn't have been…

_**Don't jump.**_

Oh, God, she thought to herself, now I'm really going crazy…

_End it now,_ _Linda_, a menacing voice whispered._ JUMP._

_**Don't jump.**_

She held her head in her hands, clutching her hair as the voices warred in her head; one evil and low, the other strong and tender.

"Chris, you're not here," she told the voice, attempting to convince herself of the truth.

_**Then change that. Come and find me.**_

"How?" A part of her couldn't believe that she was actually talking to the voice in her mind like it was standing right next to her, but it was better than the demanding hiss that was telling her to kill herself. Chris's voice didn't reply, but it didn't need to. She climbed down from the edge and walked back inside the house, knowing that what she was about to do was going to change everything. But it was her destiny, her future...her choice.

And it was time that she took it into her own hands.

* * *

"Where in the world is Linda?" Ulysses walked up the stairs with Sarah close behind. "She hasn't come out of her room, I swear-" He rapped on her bedroom door. "Linda!" No answer. He knocked again. "Linda, you need to eat sometime today." He opened the door to her bedroom and found it empty and tidy, everything put into its proper place...almost too proper. He walked in and looked around, a sense of distant dread settling on his shoulders.

"Something isn't right…" he said slowly. Sarah looked around and like a freight train hitting her in her face, it dawned on her why the room was the way it was. She felt her face grow pale.

"She did it."

"Did what?" Ulysses turned around at her words.

"She ran away," she said numbly. He stared at her.

"No, she didn't."

"Yes, Ulysses, she did," she snapped.

"No, she…" Ulysses looked around the room again, trying to look for any excuse he could find to calm his wife down. "She wouldn't…that's not Linda..."

Sarah whimpered. "My God, what if something happens to her out there? What if she's gone forever? I'll never see her again...my only baby..." Sarah trembled and held herself, groaning at the revelation in her own words. With a heartbreaking sob, she suddenly looked up and went at Ulysses, unrelentingly backing him up against the wall.

"You did this!" She screamed as she beat his chest with her fists. "You made her leave!" She hit him harder and harder with each word that fell out of her mouth. "How could you do this to me?!" Ulysses grabbed her wrists to stop her, but a hand flew out of his grasp and slapped him painfully across the face.

"I will NEVER forgive you!" The roar of her voice echoed in his ears as she stormed out of the room past Esther and the butler, who were looking in on the scene with pale faces. Ulysses held his chin and looked away from them, his heart sinking as he heard Sarah barking commands to various staff to help her pack her bags.

"Sir," the butler said gently. "Are you all right?" Ulysses dropped his hand, looking one last time to Linda's made up bed and pushed past the butler and Esther to go into the master bedroom where some of the maids were helping Sarah pack various items into the different bags spread out across the bed.

"Sarah," Ulysses said softly as he came into the room. "Give me a chance-"

"No, Ulysses!" She snapped as she turned around. "I've let you explain yourself for far too long. Linda's gone, and it's all because of _you._ The maids all stopped to watch the argument.

"I'll go and find her-"

"And say what?! She won't listen to you anymore! If you bring her back, she'll just run away again!" Sarah turned around again. "I should've never let you do this..." She stopped packing and let out a strangled whine. "I'm just as much to blame as you..." Ulysses blinked back tears as she continued hastily packing, the maids constantly dropping things to comfort her as she went from extreme activity to a blubbering mess in a space of a few seconds back and forth, like a swing on a swingset.

He turned around and slowly walked out of the room and down the stairs, shutting the door to his study and leaning back against the door, putting his hand to his forehead. Peter's father, Xavier, had just told him a few hours before that Delilah was leaving him after he and Peter had had a final confrontation; now, despite his disbelief, the same thing was happening to him and Sarah.

A part of him wanted to be angry with Linda; it was as if she purposefully ran away to prove a point to him. And she did a perfect job with it. But she just couldn't see that he wanted her to be happy, to be safe and away from harm. Wasn't that what every father wanted for his child? Why did she have to make it so hard on him to give her a bright future?

As he puzzled and reasoned and tried to grasp what was happening, a familiar gnaw started in his mind. The ghosts of his past scratched and knocked at the door of his conscious, demanding to be let out, to be put to rest. He stared into the bleak light of the office as he heard Sarah call for Timothy and the front door shut with a sharp slam. He stood taller and straightened his blazer with a tug, sniffling. Before Linda tried to disappear from their lives, before she took her future and ran off with it, she deserved an explanation as to why he was so harsh and so careful with her. And he would find her and tell her so.

And he would also bring her back home...

* * *

"Supposed to rain tomorrow," Ruth said as she knitted in the chair by the window. "I hope the garden doesn't flood."

Chris rolled his eyes at her attempt to make casual conversation, and wished that one of the other brothers was around for her to bother. But with Elijah in South America and Henry and Aaron working over time at the store, Chris the only son left to be subjected to her ramblings.

"I'm sure the garden will be fine, Mum," he replied dully from the chair he was lounging in, a book in his lap that he had long since given up paying attention to.

"Well, I'm just saying…" Ruth sighed and got up from her chair, patting Chris gently on the head as she passed by to walk into the kitchen. He stared into the fire that was slowly dying down in the fireplace. Summer holidays were turning out to be a miserable time; he couldn't stop thinking about Linda. What was she doing? How was she? Did she meet anyone? His mind constantly buzzed with questions about her well-being, despite his best efforts to try and stop.

A soft knock at the door broke his train of thought and he looked toward the sound curiously.

"Who in the world would be here at this time of night in this rain?" Ruth called.

"Might be one of the neighbors," Chris said as he got up from his chair. He opened the door and fully expected to see one of the burly farmers from down the hill soaked and standing on the porch, but felt his jaw go slack in shock at who was actually there.

"Linda," he said dumbly, his mouth suddenly feeling as though someone had jammed a wad of cotton balls in it. To his utter and complete surprise, a very drenched Linda smiled up at him through the mess of wet blonde hair that was plastered all around her face.

"Chris," she said softly, her face breaking into a beautiful and dazzling smile. His mind began to race, desperately trying to find something, anything to say that could possibly communicate the mass of what he feeling. But he settled for wrapping his arms around her, his shirt immediately soaked with rain as he hugged her tightly. She clung to him, slightly shivering.

"I missed you so much," Linda whispered tearfully as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"I thought about you every second of every day." He pulled her back to sweep some hair from her face. He was desperately afraid that it was all just a dream and that he was doomed to wake up any second and face the reality of never seeing her again. But at her fingertips gently touching his cheek, he felt his heart literally soar. Linda was really here, at his house. She had really made the journey to be with him.

"Aren't you going to kiss me now?" Linda asked sweetly, her soft chuckle at her question cut off by his eager kiss.

"Christopher, who's at the door? For God's sake, you're letting the rain in-" Ruth's voice stopped as she came from the kitchen. Chris could feel his mother's eyes on them and reluctantly, he pulled back and looked to the very shocked and wide-eyed Ruth.

"Mum," Chris said as he held Linda close to his side. "This is Linda. She's my girlfriend."

Linda politely smiled and Ruth's face immediately turned from shock to excitement. "Oh really?!" she asked with a clasp of her hands. "Oh, my! Well, Christopher, you didn't tell me that she was coming. My house is such a mess." She bustled over to them and immediately began to look Linda over. "My goodness, sweetheart, you're soaked to the bone! Come, come." She pushed Chris away and took Linda around the shoulders. "Let's get you some dry clothes. Christopher, go make a bed in the back bedroom and put some soup on the stove. And for goodness's sake, shut that door! Let's get you cleaned up, love." With a tut, Ruth led her down the hall and into the master bedroom.

Chris shut the front door and looked up to the ceiling; he had never believed in God, but in that moment, he knew that Linda had been brought to him by something outside of themselves. Something divine.

"Thank you," he said simply, walking down the hall to do what his mother asked of him...

* * *

Though Linda was drained after almost a full day of traveling by foot and hitchhiking, she couldn't sleep knowing Chris was down the hall from the room she was in; so close, yet still too far apart. She got up and opened the door quietly, following the crack of light that spilled into the hall from one of the rooms. Silently, she walked up and peaked inside. Chris was up, reading a book, his brow furrowed in concentration.

She opened the door and knocked, making him look up.

"Oh..." He looked around and suddenly sprung up, attempting to straighten up the mess around him. She didn't miss his blush of embarrassment. "Sorry, between me and Eli, we have a lot of junk..." He quickly moved something to cover what looked like a human skull.

"It's fine," she said honestly as she came into the room, reaching out to grab his arm as he spun around to move something else. "I just want to be near you." He smiled and sat down on the bed, pulling her down to sit with him. He stared at her lovingly, reaching to brush a curl back from her face.

"Do you parents know that you left?" He asked after a couple of seconds of silence. Linda cleared her throat.

"They do now," she said simply.

He frowned. "They'll take you back home if they find you."

"I'll just run away again. And again, and again, and again. I'm not letting them stop me anymore." She moved into Chris's arms. "I love you, and I want to be with you."

He held her tenderly. "I'm sure your mother's heartbroken."

"I know," she said sadly; she knew fully well that Sarah would probably lose her mind at the fact that Ulysses had pushed Linda to abandon them. "I think she would understand, though." A part of her wasn't too sure about that, but hoped just the same. She rested her ear on his heart to listen to the strong, steady beat.

"I'm glad you're here with me," he said as he kissed her head. She looked up at him.

"Me, too." He pulled her to lay down with him and she threw her leg across his thighs, her arm resting lazily across his stomach as she cuddled next to him, lying her head on his chest. She sighed sleepily as his hand stroked her back, and he picked up the book next to him to start reading again. "What is that that you're reading?" Linda murmured after a couple of minutes. Chris paused.

"It's a work about the ancient pharaohs by Dr. Emmett Sherlock. He's an archeologist that worked with Eli in Cairo."

"Emmett Sherlock...Sherlock," Linda repeated. "...Sherlock Holmes," she said a little louder. "It has a ring to it, don't you think?"

"What is it with you and these old, unique names?" he asked, trying to feign sounding exasperated, but his smile gave away his teasing.

"I don't know, maybe I'm just jealous that my name is just so ordinary."

"You have a beautiful name." Chris argued, nudging her playfully in the side. She smiled and leaned up to kiss him lightly, but his hand cupped the back of her head to keep her still. As the seconds passed, their kiss very slowly became deeper and deeper. Linda moved to where she was laying on top of him and felt up the sides of his chest, her heart beginning to race as she felt the planes and dips beneath her fingertips. She found the top button of his shirt and very gently unbuttoned it and started to work her way down, reaching through the opening to feel his warm skin-

"Oi, Lin, Lin," Chris said as he broke their kiss. "Wait..." He took a shaky breath and swallowed. "Not...not here."

"I'm sorry." Linda felt her cheeks flush pink with embarrassment and she looked away._ Stupid, Linda. You're so stupid to think you could be so bold_. "I didn't realize that you didn't want to-"

"No, no, it's not that," he said gently, bringing her gaze back. "But let's just say I'm old-fashioned in that regard." He moved her back beside him and buttoned back up his shirt. "The time will come for that to happen; for now, I'm fine with just hugging and kissing you. Is that all right?"

"Perfect," she murmured with a slight smile. He winked and gently pulled her back into his side again so she could lay her heart on his chest. As his heart beat under her ear, she sighed sleepily.

"Will you read out loud?"

"Out loud?"

"I want to hear your voice." She felt him smile at her request; he picked back up the book and softly started to read out loud about the majesty of the pyramids in Egypt. As he read, she felt herself slipping away and into a world of dreams...

* * *

"Good morning, Mrs. Holmes."

Ruth turned to Linda, who was standing at the doorway and trying to pull back her hair into a bun.

"Oh, hello, darling," Ruth replied happily. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby," Linda answered, sighing in absolute contentment. She never thought that waking up in Chris's arms would feel so wonderful; it was even better than what she imagined it to be. And she learned that he was a rather hard sleeper and snored when laying on his back; it was actually quite adorable.

"Well, that's all good, then. Porridge?"

"Please."

Ruth prepared a bowl of porridge for them both and they sat down at the table.

"So, you and my boy are together," Ruth finally said after a few minutes. Linda nodded. "I have to say, I'm so happy that Chris has found someone. You know, out of all of my sons, he's had the most trouble finding a girl. And you would think with all that poetry he writes that girls would swarm him, but no." Linda held back a smile. Chris would've been mortified at his mother's attempt to make casual conversation, but Linda couldn't help but be charmed by the Holmes matriarch. She was taller and broader than most women, with curly jet black hair that looked as though it had a life of its own on her head, skin that was tanned and weathered from years in the sun and deep brown eyes. A pillar of strength in the midst of five sons; how she managed to raise them all by herself was a miracle.

"Morning, Mum!" A deep voice boomed as the front door opened.

"Morning, Henry," Ruth called. "Is your brother with you?"

"Yes," a voice a little higher in pitch replied. "We were just wondering if you have a spare plow around." Two sets of footsteps came around the corner and the men paused at the sight of who was in the kitchen. Linda's eyes widened at the taller man; he was as big as bear, it seemed! That must be Henry, she thought to herself. Chris had spent many a conversation complaining about how insufferable his older brother was and Chris certainly wasn't kidding when he said that Henry was as big as a house. She wasn't sure who the other man standing next to Henry was, but she guessed that it was Aaron; he was the only brother that wore glasses.

"Boys, this is Linda, Chris's girlfriend," Ruth stressed the word 'girlfriend', barely able to contain her grin. Henry and Aaron blinked as though they didn't exactly understand what was said. Linda smiled timidly, hoping that one of them, any of them, would say something.

"I told you Chris was always interested in blondes," Henry said suddenly after a few tense seconds of silence with a look to his brother.

"How were you even supposed to know that? He didn't date anyone," Aaron replied, also looking away from Linda.

"Growing up, every girl that he had a crush on was blonde."

"No, there was Susannah Kirk and she was a redhead-"

"Boys!" Ruth broke in, drawing their attention. "Let's not talk about that, yes? Linda doesn't want to hear about all of that mess."

"Thank you, Mum, for having some common sense," Chris said lazily as he strolled into the kitchen from the hallway. "And by the way," he continued with a look to his brothers. "Susannah was a brunette."

"Was she?" Henry asked.

"Yes." Chris smiled at Linda. "I hope this lot wasn't too much for you. They can be quite the burden."

"Not at all," Linda replied sweetly as she got up from the chair to walk into Chris's arms, giving him a hug and kiss. She could hear Ruth almost whimpering with excitement from behind her.

"Do you know how to play chess, Linda?" Henry asked.

"Of course," she said as she let Chris go.

"Up for a game then?"

"Henry, not now-" Aaron started, but Linda turned around and shrugged.

"Why not? Let's see how fast I can kick your tail."

Chris knew that she was teasing, but at the same time, she was also dead serious. Linda was quite the chess player, and was known around the university for being an extremely fierce competitor. With a smile, Henry declared a chess war and Chris knew it was only a matter of time before he got bested...

* * *

"Checkmate," Linda said sweetly as she made her final move. Henry looked over the board carefully for a few seconds and then shouted a curse, earning himself a good hard smack on the back of his head from Aaron as he passed by them.

"Don't curse in front of a lady," he snapped.

"But she beat me!" Henry argued back almost pathetically, his voice sounding unusually high pitched and whiny. Looking up from his book, Chris beamed at Linda over Henry's shoulder, who was sitting back and basking in her victory with her hands in front of her mouth and her legs crossed.

"That's my girl," he praised. She winked at him and leaned forward, her elbows on her knee.

"Can't handle defeat, how very telling," she teased darkly at Henry, who scowled at her.

"Don't be a smart arse," he snapped, and Aaron made a noise that told Henry to back off, or else he would regret it. Her eyebrow rose.

"Well, come on, then, play me again," Linda challenged. "You think you're so big and bad, should be no problem beating little ol' me." She stuck out her bottom lip, feigning a pout. Henry's lip twitched in very slight amusement.

"You're on, princess." There was no mistaking the smile in his voice.

"I have to say, Chris," Aaron said as Henry started to fix the board. "You know how to pick them. Linda's going to fit in perfectly with our family." Chris smiled at his brothers' approval, especially Henry's. As much as he annoyed Chris to no end, it was nice to see Henry already treating her as though she was his sister.

Ruth bustled out from the kitchen with a tray of tea and biscuits.

"Linda," she said as she poured tea. "Do you think you should call your parents and let them know that you're here? I'm sure they're very worried about you." Chris looked to Linda to see how she would answer, but she chose to ignore the question and watched Henry finish fixing the board for a new game. As she made the first move, a car door slammed outside and she paused with the chess piece in her hand. Chris obviously heard it too; he shut his book and got up to draw the curtain back, his breath catching in his throat.

"Well, Linda, I guess even if you wanted to, you won't have to call your parents." Aaron, Henry and Linda looked at him as he let the curtain go. "Your father is outside right now.


	16. Chapter Sixteen - Destiny

**Chapter Sixteen - Destiny**

Chris opened the door.

"Hello, Dr. Gregory," he said politely to Ulysses, who was standing on the front porch with his hand raised to knock. He slowly put his hand down.

"Hello, Christopher." Ulysses looked like he had been through hell. His eyes were blood shot and his salt and pepper hair stuck out in all directions; his blazer and tie were haphazardly askew. "Is Linda here?" Chris nodded and opened the door farther to let him in.

Aaron, Henry, Linda and Ruth all watched as they came and stood in front of them.

"Oh," Chris suddenly said as Ulysses looked at him. "This is my mum, Ruth and my brothers, Henry and Aaron. Family, this is Linda's father, Dr. Gregory." Henry and Aaron smiled and nodded politely.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Doctor." Ruth came and shook his hand, clearing her throat loudly. "Um, boys," she turned to Aaron and Henry, giving them a pointed look. "Can you come out and help me in the garden?" They got up and Henry ruffled Linda's hair playfully as he passed her by. Despite the tense situation, she gently hit his hand away and gave him a short smile before he left with Ruth and Aaron out the door.

All three of them found themselves in awkward silence.

"Um, please have a seat, Dr. Gregory." Ulysses sat in Chris's usual armchair and Chris took a seat in Henry's abandoned chair across from Linda. After a few more seconds of silence, she cleared her throat.

"Father...why are you here?" There was no mistaking the edge in her tone. Ulysses sighed tiredly and clenched his jaw.

"You know..." he scoffed. "I don't know." He threw his hand up and hit his knee with a hand smack, his lips in a tight line. "I know that you won't listen to whatever I have to say, no matter how much I sit here and talk."

"Well, I'm glad that we, at least, have that understanding," Linda said shortly. "I'll make it easy for you: if you've come here to drag me back home, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not going anywhere." Ulysses pounded his fist on the arm of the chair and took a deep breath.

"Linda," He said between clenched teeth. "I want to understand your reasoning behind why you just picked and ran away."

"Oh, so you want to make this a session, do you?" Chris flicked his eyes toward Linda; she looked absolutely ready to unleash her fury. "Okay, fine. We'll play your way. You want to know why I'm here? Let's start with the fact that ever since I was a child, you've had absolute control over everything I've done, You have barely given any thought to what I want, because you're convinced that I'm a complete dud when it comes to living my own life." She stood to her feet, baring her teeth.

"And when I finally find happiness that is outside of your watchful eye, you brutally tear me away from it and carry on with your life like nothing happened, ignoring the fact that I was basically on the verge of committing suicide from the amount of trauma you inflicted on me." Chris shifted in his seat, the thought of Linda killing herself settling uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. Ulysses didn't seem be bothered by her tone nor her words.

"So you felt trapped," he said calmly.

"Suffocated is more like it."

"And now that you've come here, you feel free?"

"I AM free. You may think you're going to just make me do what you want, but I promise you that if you even try to take me back home, I will fight you with every ounce of strength I have, because I'm not leaving Chris again." The silence after her threat was almost unbearable.

"That's not up to you," Ulysses finally answered. "You're a minor, I have control over you legally."

"Is that supposed to frighten me?"

"That's supposed to make you think twice about what you're doing. You're leaving here with me today."

"If you take me home, I'll just run away again."

"And I will find you and bring you home."

"And I promise you that if you do that on the day I turn eighteen, you will never see me again," Linda said almost so serenely, it was disturbing. Chris felt a chill at Ulysses's extremely cold expression.

"I don't know who you're trying to fool here, Linda, but I'll tell you right now: you won't be happy with this life," Ulysses said. "Look at this place," He motioned around the room. "The barn down the road from us has more class than this. You're used to a pampered life." His eyes slid to Chris, who was watching him closely. "Not some existence as a commoner." Chris's eyes narrowed.

"How. Dare. You ." The tension in the room thickened at the snarl in Linda's voice. "Do you really believe I'm so shallow that I would base my love for Chris and how happy I would be with him on the amount of money in his pocket?!"

"I'm just informing you of the facts. Chris wouldn't be able to give you the life that you deserve, Linda." She opened her mouth to reply.

"Linda," Chris said suddenly from his relaxed position in his chair. "Your father has a point." They both blinked at him in surprise. "You know, Doctor," he addressed Ulysses. "You're acting as though I'm not aware of the reality of where Linda and I are on the totem pole of society. Allow me, if you will, to tell you about it..."

"I come from a middle class -or in your opinion, poor- family, with four brothers -one who's a cross dresser, mind you- and a single mother who constantly harasses her sons for grandchildren." Linda's jaw dropped, but she barely had time to dwell on anything Chris had just said; his speech was speeding up with each word, as if his brain and mouth were in perfect working harmony, not skipping a single beat. "I'm an English major, which to most people means I'm automatically doomed to live in a box on the streets of London, though that also means I'm unbelievably good with manipulating words to my advantage, but who can put that on a resume? Me, I'm lucky that I even passed last term; I'm something of a moron, but that's a moot point. I'm nothing special in terms of looks; in fact, I consider myself painfully ordinary compared to most men."

He pointed to Linda, his words stronger and clearer, though still flowing out uncomprehendingly fast. "Linda, on the other hand, was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and an ability with numbers that would Einstein have a brain aneurysm. She makes some of the people in the mathematics department at the university look like complete and utter morons." She couldn't help but gape as she watched Chris's mouth move, his words still moving at lightening speed and flowing out smoothly into the open space like water in a stream. "You would expect someone with her mental prowess to look like a dog's wet blanket, but truthfully, she could probably wear a potato sack for the rest of her life and she would still be _unbelievably hot_." He stressed the last two words with a deep and sensual voice, and Linda briefly looked to see Ulysses's absolutely shocked expression.

"Are you trying to be funny?" He asked as he recovered from the surprise of Chris's words.

"Not at all, sir. Well, I'm glad that's cleared up." Chris clapped his hands together. "Feels good to know where we stand, doesn't it? So, enough about us. Now, if you don't mind, I have a question for you." Ulysses shot him a look to say he did mind, but Chris seemed to gloss right over it. "Why have you been setting Linda up all of these years, even though you knew she didn't want it?" Ulysses opened his mouth to answer, but seemed to think better and shut it.

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Then explain yourself to me," Linda said, sitting back down and crossing her legs. She put her hands under her chin and fixed her eyes on her father. For awhile, it looked as though Ulysses wasn't going to talk, but finally, he sighed and swallowed.

"There's a very deep history attached to that question." His voice was tight and soft and his knuckles were white from where he was clenching his fists. Chris leaned back in his seat, his hand to his mouth as his eyes swept Ulysses up and down, his mind working like a radar, pinpointing the tiniest details he could. As if he was poked with an electric prod, he shot back up straight in his seat, making Linda jump.

"Well, from what I've seen and experienced of you, sir, you're used to making the decisions and calling the shots. You have a strong sense of control and an almost innate ability to use your intimidation to get your way. However, you're not very skilled on how to handle getting dethroned by something underneath you, or in other words, beaten. How very much like my brother Rudy, and on that note, extremely typical of the oldest sibling." Linda shook her head.

"Sibling? No, he's the only chi-"

"But I'm going to guess that you don't have any family outside of Linda and Sarah," Chris rose his voice to drown her out. "Why else would you show up here trying to convince her to come back without your wife by your side? Simple: you're about to lose the only family your have for good. So, I'm going to guess that you've been on your own for quite a long time, probably since you were our age or even earlier. So what happened to make it that way?"

Ulysses's jaw hung as Chris stood to his feet, put his hands behind his back and started to stroll.

"From what I've come to understand after many conversations with Linda, she doesn't know much about your family, which doesn't make sense, yet it does." He tilted his head. "It doesn't make sense because she's your daughter; after all, she would have to meet someone from your side eventually, but it does make sense because why would you want her to know if you're hiding something…?" He could tell he hit a nerve; Ulysses looked as though he was about to faint.

"Ah, but here's where it gets interesting," Chris said with a small smile. "I noticed when I introduced my brothers, your reactions to them were very different. You didn't pay Aaron much mind –who would, he's about as interesting as watching cows eat grass." He rolled his eyes. "But you made sure to guard yourself against Henry and you almost went at him for ruffling Linda's hair. I know he looks like the type that could snap her in half like a twig, but in truth, he's the biggest wimp that has ever walked the face of this Earth, so you have nothing to worry about." He waved his hand dismissively. "But your intense reaction to him told me that he reminds you of someone- someone that left a mark on your memory." Linda looked at Ulysses, who was pale as a ghost, his expression a cross between bewilderment and awe.

"So, the question is, what could've happened in your past to teach you that in order to ensure your piece of mind when it came to your daughter's love life, you make sure and have complete and total control over how everything plays out?" Chris stopped and spun around.

"This has to do with your sister, doesn't it?" Linda stared in disbelief, lost for words. She started to open her mouth to say something to her father, but at his deep expression of grief, she stopped herself.

"Her name was Jane." The words came out slow and strangled. "She was my younger sister. We were both set up by our parents to get married- me to Sarah, her to a young man named Charles. But when she went off to university, she met a man named Daniel. He was…such a charmer. He captivated Jane, made her feel as though she was experiencing life for the very first time. She told our parents over holiday that she wasn't going to be with Charles anymore and that Daniel had asked her to marry him. And the crazy part is…my parents were happy." Ulysses chuckled bitterly. "They were happy that their daughter had found someone she loved. But they didn't know him...none of us knew him."

"Boy, he knew how to play us like a fiddle." Ulysses smacked his lips. "He really took her places..."

"And one of those places he took her was to the grave," Chris said softly. "He killed her, didn't he?" Ulysses cleared his throat.

"He snapped one night when they were having an argument and he-" He put a hand to his mouth, making a sound of what sounded like pain. After a few seconds, he lowered his hand. "We could barely recognize her when he was finished. He didn't just kill her, but he killed the child that she was carrying, too." Linda gasped softly, her eyes filling with tears as she watched him wince like he was reliving the pain all over again.

"My father was...so torn up about it. I remember that he used to just walk around the house, as if he was in trance, looking for Jane. Well, after a few weeks, it finally sunk in what happened and he locked himself away and shot himself as we were begging him to open the door. My mother, in utter despair, hung herself about a month later and before I knew it…it was just me. I lost my entire family all because of one. Reckless. Mistake."

"Sarah and I promised to not speak about it," he continued after a very lengthy pause. "When Linda was born, I made a vow within myself that I would never, ever lose her the way I lost my sister. I came to the conclusion that Jane and my whole family would still been alive if she had stayed with Charles and went through with the arranged marriage. So I took a page from my father's book, except I made no room for error, no room for a mistake. I did, however, make a miscalculation..." He looked up at Chris, a low fire of hatred in his eyes. "You." The men stared at each other and even though Chris knew that he was really the target of Ulysses's hatred, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the man sitting in the armchair. There was a lot of pain in his past, and it was because of him letting his pain rule him that he was sitting there trying to put together his broken family.

"That's where you're wrong, Father," Linda said, drawing her father's gaze toward her. "Chris wasn't your miscalculation…Fate was." She stood to her feet and walked around the table to Chris's side, taking his hand in hers.

"Meeting Chris wasn't a coincidence. It was an arrangement." She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.

"You don't seriously believe that?"

"The universe is rarely so lazy," Linda replied gently. "We may make our plans and have a formula of how our life is going to play out, but sometimes...Fate has a different idea." She showed Ulysses their joined hands. "A better one." Ulysses slowly stood to his feet, looking to their hands before looking to Linda, his expression unreadable.

"I hope you realize what you're giving up by walking away from your mother and I." The door opened and Aaron, Henry and Ruth stood with baskets full of vegetables, all of them looking sheepishly in on the scene. Linda smiled at them.

"But I realize what I'm gaining," she replied tenderly. Chris's family seemed to know what she meant, and they all smiled back.

"Well," Ulysses said. "I..." He suddenly turned around and everyone moved to let him out of the door. Linda and Chris stared at each other; was he just walking away? She ran after him, stopping on the porch.

"Father!" He stopped walking and slowly turned around to face her, an expression of utter sadness in his eyes; he really was walking away and leaving her behind. What would Sarah think? "I'm sorry." And she really was. As much as she wanted to please both Chris and her father, it just wasn't possible. She could finally say that she had made her choice...and she choose a life by Chris's side.

"You've chosen your side, Linda," Ulysses said with an air of disappointment. "It's no use trying to stop you if you're going to just fight back each time. I hope you're happy with the life you've chosen." With a sigh, he turned around again and got into the limousine, and Linda watched with a heavy heart at it drove off down the dirt road and into the distance. She walked down the steps and onto the lawn, letting the wind take a tear that had fallen down her cheek.

She felt a hand lay on her shoulder.

"You're very brave, you know," Chris said softly as he slipped his arms around her waist to draw her back into his chest. He rest his chin on her shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

She sniffled. "I hope he can forgive me one day." His lips brushed against her cheek and he tightened his grip around her waist. The quiet moment was broken as they heard Aaron, Henry and Ruth coming to meet them.

"Is your father coming back, Linda?" Ruth asked when they came to a stop.

"No," she said. Chris released her and they turned around to face them. "Mrs. Holmes, do you mind if I stay here for a couple of days until I figure out, um." She looked down sadly. "What I'm going to do next?" Ruth looked very thoughtful, and then looked to the sons standing next to her.

"You know, the summertime is a perfect time for a wedding," she said suddenly. Aaron and Henry smiled at her.

"I agree, a splendid time," Aaron said, looking back to Chris and Linda.

"As perfect of a time as any," Henry confirmed with a nod and wink.

"Okay, everyone, thank you for your input about our future," Chris said with an air of light amusement. "But Linda and I aren't the slightest bit ready to be married." All of the family looked to Linda, and a slow, sweet smile crept onto her face.

"You know, Linda Holmes doesn't sound too bad to me." His head snapped toward her in both shock and surprise.

"Me neither," Aaron agreed.

"Rolls off of the tongue like honey from a comb." Henry's grin was a mile long.

"To think I'll have a daughter!" Ruth clapped her hands together. "Oh, I'm so excited I could just burst!" Chris made a noise of exasperation.

"Wait, now, hold on a minute!" Everyone turned to look at him. He stood with his jaw hanging, a look of utter confusion on his face. "What the bloody hell are you all talking about?!"

"About you and Linda getting married." Henry, for once, looked at Chris like he was the complete idiot.

"What?!" Linda felt sorry for Chris; he looked as though he was about to either faint, have a heart attack, throw up or do all three. "Since when do you all get a say in that?!"

"Are you saying you don't want to marry Linda, Christopher?" Ruth asked as she eyed him with a stern stare.

"Of course I want to marry her." He felt his face turn red. He couldn't believe that he was actually having this conversation. It was the stuff that his worst nightmares were made of. "But for God's sake, it's OUR relationship!" He motioned between him and Linda. "WE are supposed to decide when the time would be to get married! And you also have to remember that Linda is underage; we can't get married even if we wanted to."

"I'll be eighteen at the end of July," Linda said. "We can get married right before we go back to term."

"Splendid," Henry said with a clap of his hands and a smile to Ruth and Aaron, who nodded in agreement.

"You're serious?" Chris asked with an extremely surprised look to Linda. "You actually want to get married?"

"Yes, of course I do," she said.

"Don't you think this is happening a little too quickly?"

"We're going to get married someday, why not just do it now?" The family beamed at her response and Chris paused.

"What about our educations?" He finally asked after a few seconds.

"Plenty of people get married when they're in university," Linda said. "If you're worried about paying for our terms, I got offered a scholarship before I left. I can pay my own way, I just have to pull some strings."

"But after we leave for the summer, where are we going to live?"

"You can always live here until you graduate," Ruth offered.

"Or better yet," Aaron chimed in as Chris's face drained of color at her offer. "You can live in the old summer house when you're home. It needs work, but Henry and I will help you fix it up and clean it out." Henry nodded.

"And when you go back each term, you can live in the married couple dormitory. See? Simple." Chris blinked at Henry's statement - he wasn't used to hearing so much logical thinking come out of his mouth. It was almost surreal.

"So, what do you think?" Ruth asked hopefully. Everyone looked to Chris, who looked as though he was a little irritated at the fact that everyone was ganging up on him. He sighed for a long time before answering.

"I don't have a ring," he said to Linda.

"I don't need a ring."

"She doesn't need a ring," Henry parroted.

"But it's the principle of the matter!" Chris practically shouted. "I know this may come as a shock to you two sacks of bones," he said with a glare toward his brothers. "But when you ask a woman to marry you, you're supposed to give her a ring!"

"Chris, a marriage isn't made by a ring. You can always get me one later," Linda said in an attempt to calm him down.

"There, seeeeeee? Pressure's off," Henry said, going up to Linda grabbing her in a hug, which she happily accepted. "Welcome to the family, Linda." He nosily and sloppily kissed her cheek.

"Oh, my baby boy is getting married!" Ruth sniffled, wiping at her eye. "There's so much to do! We have to book a hall, and get a list together of who's coming, and start looking for a gown for Linda…"

"Can't believe this rubbish," Chris grumbled loudly. "Damn family has to make me look like an arse, didn't even get to ask her myself-" Linda swiftly and painfully nudged in the side with her elbow, making sure to hit his ribs.

"Behave," she snapped lowly and Chris quieted down as they all walked back up to the house and listened to Ruth go on and on about wedding plans...

* * *

"Lin, could you come out here and help me with something, please?"

Linda looked up from the gardening book that she was casually scanning through in her room – who knew that flowers could be utterly fascinating- and her eyes slid to the clock at the bedside.

_What in the world could Chris need help with at almost midnight?_

Setting the book aside, she got up and walked out to the hallway, following the light that was coming from the sitting room. Maybe he wanted her to look over another poem or an excerpt from a book that he was thinking about writing. He was doing quite of a bit of-

She stopped and stared at the sight of the sitting room. The couch, the table where the chessboard was usually sitting and some of the other random furniture had been moved out of the way and in the very middle of the small space sat the red armchair. Chris was standing by a black chalkboard, his hands behind his back and an extremely serious expression on his face.

A million different questions raced through her mind, but only one seemed to make its way out of her mouth.

"Where in the world did you get that?" she asked, pointing to the chalkboard.

"We've always had it," he said with a light shrug. "It was just hiding away. I need you to help me with a maths problem."

Silence.

"A maths problem," she repeated flatly.

"Yes." He gestured to the armchair that was sitting in front of the chalkboard. "Have a seat."

She folded her arms and bit her lip. "What are you up to?"

"What do you mean?"

"You never want to do maths; you act as though someone is drawing blood from you when you're even asked what two plus two is."

His facial expression didn't change as he pointed to the chair. "Just come sit. I need your full attention for this."

Though she was suspicious –and slightly nervous for some unknown reason-, she walked to the chair and took a seat, folding her hands in her lap neatly.

"I want to show you a problem that I've been working on and see what you think about it."

She blinked and tried to keep her expression neutral. "All right, then."

He took a deep breath and picked up a piece of chalk. "An estimated three billion people are alive on this planet right now." He wrote the number three billion on the board. "Now, how many of that number do you estimate that I could meet?"

He paused and Linda felt her mind literally start to run away with itself as it began to crunch and come up with an answer.

"This is just an estimation, but maybe less than four percent or so. I could narrow it down with an algorithm-"

"Not necessary," Chris interrupted with a smile. "We'll just run with that." He turned back around and wrote "4 percent" on the board. "Now, four percent of three billion is..."

"One hundred and twenty million," Linda replied automatically.

"Excellent." Chris wrote it down. "So, for simplicity's sake, I'll divide that number by two to separate the women from the men...that's sixty million."

"You do understand that's not an accurate number."

"Yes, of course, I know that, but I'm just trying not to give myself too much of a headache with this."

She felt her lips curl into a grin.

"Now, of this number," he contined. "How much do you estimate are between the ages of seventeen and nineteen?"

"Three, maybe four percent? You might want to go with four to allow some room for error." _Where in the world is he going with this_, she thought to herself as he wrote it down. "And four percent of sixty million is two million, four hundred thousand," she said before he could ask her for the answer.

"Thank you for that." He turned around. "Now, we have to factor in another percentage: those that can't speak English well. After all, I have to be able to talk to the other person, don't I?"

"Uh," Linda said with a shrug, not sure how to really response to his tongue-in-cheek statement. "I suppose so."

"I remember that someone in maths last term said that an estimated six percent of the world's population can speak English, which leaves a staggering ninety-four percent that can't. I don't know if that's true or not, but for the sake of this demonstration, I'm going to use that number."

"Chris-"

"Would you like to tell me what the final number is?" Chris stepped back and Linda rolled her eyes, looking over the numbers. The scrawl popped off the chalkboard and floated in midair and as though they had minds of their own, they moved and raced across her vision. She heard herself mumbling to keep up with them as they zoomed around and provided her with the final glowing answer.

"One hundred and forty-four thousand, give or take."

"So that means that I have a dating pool of one hundred and forty-four thousand women open to me." Chris actually looked slightly impressed by the number and Linda clenched her jaw.

"And you're about to be out in that pool unless you tell me what you're up."

"Now, now, don't get angry; I'm going somewhere with this," he said patiently, walking up to the board again looking over the numbers again in silence. "Now, here's where it gets interesting: I estimate that maybe three percent of that group has half the smarts that you do."

He turned around and started to walk toward her. "I also estimate that only two percent of this group will inspire me to become the best man that I can be. And only six percent of this group will love me the way you have loved me and will appreciate the hell I went through to get these numbers."

Linda would've laughed at that comment, but at the look of utter seriousness on Chris's face, it quickly died in her throat.

"And only a measly one percent of that group could bring the happiness and joy that you have brought into my life," he finished as he stopped in front of her. She furiously looked between the board and Chris, her mind absolutely blank for what to say. That was a rather elaborate way of telling her that she was part of a small percentage of women that were a match for him. But what was the purpose with going through all of that trouble?

"No amount of statistics and numbers could possibly calculate how perfect you are for me, Linda," he said softly, gently reaching to take her hands and pull her to her feet. "I'm not a logical thinker like you are, but I know this: by most people's standards, we shouldn't be together, but we are. And I want to make sure that we're never apart again." With a nervous smile, he slowly got down on one knee and she felt her heart lunch in her chest, an extremely soft sob catching in her throat as she looked between him and the numbers for a few seconds.

The gears of her mind grinded to a halt as it finally sank in what was happening.

"You did all of this to propose?" she asked with a soft laugh.

"Well, I wasn't about to let the family steal my thunder," he said with a soft laugh, letting go of her hands to reach into his back pocket. "You deserve to be asked for your hand in marriage properly. So…with all of this said." The small ring box opened to reveal a simple diamond ring with a white gold band that winked in the dim light of the room.

"I know that we're young and that we haven't been together very long, but I know that deep down that I will love another woman as much as I love you, Linda."

She sniffled.

"I can't promise you that our life together will be easy, but you can be assured that I will never regret the price that I had to pay for you. You were worth every second of the wait, heartache, loneliness and bliss."

"Oh, Chris," she whispered, wiping furiously at the tears that were already running down her cheeks.

"I don't have a dime to my name to give you, but for right now, I want to give you something that I think has more worth and value…my heart. Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Linda barely could hold herself back from sobbing out her answer. "Yes, of course I will marry you!" Her vision was completely blurry with tears, but she saw the shape of Chris get to his feet and take her left hand to slip the ring on her finger. They shared a tender kiss to seal the moment.

"It's beautiful," she said through a soft hiccup after a couple of seconds of staring at her hand.

"I'm glad you like it." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead, hugging her tightly. As they stood together in the silence of the sitting room, Linda felt as though she was taking off in flight for the first time and leaving behind the cage of her former life.

She had a new destiny awaiting her: to become a Holmes.


	17. Chapter Seventeen - Eternity

**Chapter Seventeen – Eternity**

"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, I present to you all for the first time: Mr. and Mrs. Christopher William Holmes!" Reverend Francis's voice boomed out across the sanctuary and the hall erupted in cheers and howls, most of them coming from Chris's side of the church. In the front row, Ruth sobbed loudly into her handkerchief, supported by Aaron who was wiping at his own eyes and sniffling. To Linda's delight, Sarah and Ulysses were also in the front row, quietly clapping and smiling as she and Chris turned around. He offered his arm and they walked down the steps and down the aisle to the doors of the church, letting out deep breaths of relief when the ushers shut them after them.

"Oh, my God. I never thought getting married would be so stressful," Linda said through a laugh. "No wonder people only want to do that once in their life."

"Well, now it's all over, so we can focus on other things." Chris pulled her to him and cupped her face to give her a deep and lingering kiss. "How does it feel to be Mrs. Holmes?" he murmured when they parted.

"Absolutely fantastic," she whispered, stealing another kiss as the photographer asked them to follow him so he could start taking photos. Along with the wedding party, which consisted of Fran, Melody, Michael and Elijah, they took pictures all around the expansive gardens, fountains and lush landscape of the English countryside. Chris and Linda couldn't have asked for a more perfect reward for sticking through and fighting for their relationship. It was truly magical.

* * *

At the reception meal, Michael delivered a funny and somewhat embarrassing best man speech detailing Chris's mad chase after Linda, and Fran made sure to tell the story of their first kiss in the closet of her and Linda's dorm room, stressing that they had woken her up from a blissful sleep because they were so loud and it was the middle of the night...or morning, as Chris corrected, making Linda kick his leg under the table.

"But, you know," Fran said as the laughter died down. "Even though I though Chris was something of a mad man, I was thankful that he was so unique that Linda was drawn to him. Without him, I fear that she would be one of the most boring people alive."

Everyone laughed and Linda rolled her eyes.

"I have a feeling that their life together is going to be anything but boring. Good luck, you two." Fran and Linda embraced to applause and Michael stood to his feet, his champagne glass in hand.

"To Chris and Linda!" he called, and everyone stood with their glasses in hand and echoed his call.

* * *

As everyone mingled, Chris and Linda made their way through the crowd and greeted and thanked different guests as they saw them, exchanging more hugs and kisses than they could count. After a while, Aaron suddenly appeared next to them.

"I have a surprise for you. Actually," he addressed Henry and Elijah, who had just walked over to join them. "It's for all of us." He pointed to a man standing over by the refreshments. He was wearing a very tight and expensive green dress and sporting a very large curly blonde wig, completely ignoring the highbrow looks that were shot his way as he helped himself to some punch.

"Is that Rudy?" Chris asked, his jaw dropping as the man fluffed his wig and smiled at a couple who had to take a double take as they passed him by.

"Yes. Managed to get a hold of him and tell him about you getting married. Said he wouldn't miss his baby brother's wedding for the world." Aaron beamed and waved to Rudy. Linda suddenly felt less like a woman as Rudy gracefully made his way over; he walked better than most women did, almost a fluid like motion in his tall, proud stride.

"Chris." Rudy smiled and pulled him into a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you," he said sincerely as he pulled a very surprised, yet happy Chris back and clapped his shoulder. He looked to Linda. "Oh, and you, my darling, look absolutely gorgeous in that dress. Most women can't pull off that look, but your body type is perfect. I hope you didn't have to starve too long to fit into it."

Everyone looked to Linda, all of the brothers except Rudy holding their breaths to see how she would respond. Slowly, a sweet smile spread across her face.

"You would be surprised what a life without chocolate is like," she said with a chuckle. Chris felt himself relax and he started to breath again.

"Oh, tell me about it." Rudy let Chris go and put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm telling you, when I dress shop…"

She let him lead her away from the group, laughing as he told her something funny. Henry scoffed in disbelief.

"Did she just freely accept our cross-dressing brother?" He asked dumbly, pointing after them.

"That's what it looks like to me," Aaron replied just as dumbly. Elijah and Chris looked at each other, and smiled. Yes, Linda was indeed going to fit in with the Holmes family perfectly.

* * *

After a bit of talking, Rudy excused himself from Linda's side, but not after kissing her cheek and giving her a small tip on how to handle Chris on rainy days. She turned around to walk back, but the sight of her mother and father stopped her. Sarah moved away from Ulysses's side, her arms out to welcome Linda.

"Mother," Linda whispered, moving into her open arms to give her a tight hug. Sarah rubbed her back gently, nuzzling her nose in Linda's hair.

"I'm so happy for you, darling," she said tenderly as she pulled back and pet her cheek. "You're positively glowing."

"I'm sorry about…" Linda started, but the statement was choked away by her tears.

"Oh, Linda." Sarah kissed her forehead. "Sweetheart, I'm not angry with you. Not in the slightest." They hugged again, and Linda looked over her mother's shoulder to see Ulysses standing stiffly with his hands behind his back and watching them. "My little girl isn't so little anymore." She murmured as she stroked her hair.

"Are you and Father...?" Linda trailed off as Sarah tensed.

"Your father and I have some…issues to work out," Sarah said slowly as she pulled back and looked over her shoulder at him. Now wasn't the time to tell Linda about their decision… "But don't you let what's happening to us affect your marriage," she continued almost sternly as she turned back, her gaze falling onto Chris, who was coming up to them. "You and Chris have a bright future ahead of you."

He smiled at her words as he came to a stop. In a sudden sweep of motion, Ulysses came over and held out his hand.

"Christopher." They shook hands. "Take care of my daughter," he said with a firm grip and a tight expression.

"I will, sir." Chris said sincerely, smiling at Linda. Ulysses placed a gentle kiss on his daughter's cheek.

"I wish you both the best." He didn't sound angry or bitter, but he also didn't sound extremely pleased either. Linda didn't seem to mind; she smiled all the same.

"Thank you, Father." With one last hug to each parent, Sarah and Ulysses walked off, making sure to keep a distance between them. Linda sighed sadly.

"I hope they'll be all right."

Chris swallowed back his reply; he had already deduced what was going to happen, but he wasn't about to say what it was. Thankfully, he wasn't left to his own thoughts too long as Michael and Melody came over to them, punch glasses in their hands and huge smiles on their faces.

"Greetings, happy couple!" Michael said with a loud voice, making Chris roll his eyes.

"Had a little too much punch there, Mike?"

"Your mum really knows how to spike a good punch." Michael took another sip and whooshed out a breath. "Remind me to thank her later."

"Won't do," Chris replied drolly, making Melody giggle.

"So, where are you going for your honeymoon?" she asked Linda.

"Oh, we decided on Paris. We'll be gone until the term starts."

"You know, I'm actually kind of worried about when we go back," Chris said. "Anne is probably going to have a nervous breakdown when she sees that we're married. Hopefully, she doesn't try to poison us."

"Oh, you didn't hear?" Michael took a sip of his punch. "Anne isn't coming back."

Chris blinked in surprise.

"She met some Irish bloke over the summer and ran off with him to get married. What was his name, darling?" Michael turned his head to Melody. "Moran…Morton-"

"Moriarty," Melody corrected.

"Yes, Moriarty." Michael nodded and swung his glass. "We met him, actually. He's a real interesting guy; kind of weird, but so is Anne, so it's a good match."

Chris and Linda looked at each other.

"Well, I hope she's very happy," Linda said sincerely. "Maybe one day, we'll all make amends." Michael and Melody shrugged as the DJ came over the microphone and asked for the star couple to come out to the dance floor for their first dance.

_"Love, look at the two of us, strangers in many ways…"_ Karen Carpenter's voice started to sing out from the speakers all around the hall as Linda put her arms around Chris's neck and they started to slow dance, all eyes on them.

"You know what I've always wondered?" she asked as they moved slowly.

"What's that?"

"People talk about loving someone for all of eternity. Is that even possible?"

He looked thoughtful for a second. "I guess in the physical world, no, it's not," he finally answered.

"Then why do people say it?"

"Because when you fall in love with the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, the concept of eternity becomes...that person, not a length of time."

"So, I'm your eternity?" Linda asked with a smile.

"You, Linda, are my everything." He drew her close and kissed her nose. "My past." Her cheek. "My present." Her other cheek. "My future." He started to trail kisses along her jaw. "My strength… my weakness…my partner….my lover…my best friend…my genius," he finished with a kiss on her lips.

"And you, Chris, are my choice," she replied softly, moving her arms so she could lay her head on his shoulder as the world faded into the background, until there was nothing but them.

It was the start of the rest of their lives.


	18. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Did you and your father ever make up?"

Mr. Holmes had just finished talking when Mary asked, wiping at her teary eyes. Mrs. Holmes frowned.

"Not really," she answered. "There was some tension between us for a while, but it mostly went away as Mycroft and Sherlock were born. My parents ended up getting divorced," she added as an afterthought. "Mother just couldn't deal with Father's ghosts, and they were better apart than together in the end."

Mary nodded slowly and sniffled.

"So, from then on, it was pretty normal," Mrs. Holmes continued. "Chris and I went back and forth from the married couple hall to the summer house until we graduated. I ended up double majoring; I also have a degree in Economics," she said proudly, which made Mary and Mr. Holmes smile.

"I got a job working for a publishing company as a technical editor after uni. Dry work, but it was something," Mr. Holmes said

"And I worked in the finance world for a bit," Mrs. Holmes picked up. "But when I was offered a scholarship to Cambridge for their graduate mathematics program, we moved out here and the rest, as they say, is history." She looked at Mr. Holmes, the most tender expression on her face. "You know, when I think back on our story, I realize that I really grew up because of Chris," she said as she squeezed his hand. "He helped me to see that I wasn't just the daughter of a well-respected psychologist, that I wasn't just a genius, and that I wasn't just someone that could be pawned off to the highest bidder...he helped me to see Linda."

"That's what love does, Mary," she said as she looked to Mary. "It exposes who you really are, and when you're with the right person, they will help you grow and change into the person you need to be."

Mary opened her mouth to reply, but the door suddenly opened and there stood John, who looked in on the scene of all three of them on the couch with an awkward stare.

"Am I…interrupting something?"

"Oh, no, no, we were just leaving." Mr. Holmes tugged on his wife's hand and they both got up and left the drawing room, shutting the door behind them.

"Do you think we helped her?" Mrs. Holmes asked as they walked down the hall toward the kitchen.

"I think so," Mr. Holmes said. "She looked as though she needed to hear some hope." They walked into the kitchen to see Sherlock still sitting in the chair, reading from the newspaper.

"So you talked to her, then," he said without looking up.

"Oh, yes." Mr. Holmes sat down in a chair by the table. "It went very well."

"Good." Sherlock put his hands in front of his mouth, a look of very deep thought on his face. "Thank you for doing that."

Both parents stared at each other; they weren't used to Sherlock really thanking them for anything.

"You're welcome," Mrs. Holmes replied simply, going back to wash potatoes in the sink. Sherlock watched his father smile and pick up his weathered notebook to write something down. After almost 50 years of marriage, the love between his parents was still strong and secure; a shelter in the storm of a world knee deep in divorce. Though they could bore him half to death with their common, ordinary life, he couldn't help but marvel at their extraordinary struggle to be together. After all, if it wasn't for them, there would be no Sherlock Holmes.

And the world would be oh, so boring without him.

**The End**


	19. Bonus

**Bonus**

_(Twelve years after the wedding…)_

Chris strode down the hall behind little Mycroft, who was amazingly commanding at the young age of seven. With a boldness that could only belong to someone of the Holmes clan, he confidently asked the nurse at the desk to point out where his mother was, and with a chuckle, Chris followed his son's lead to the end of the hall and through an open door into a very homely hospital room.

Linda sat up against the pillows sleeping with the newest edition to the family against her chest. Little William Sherlock Scott Holmes (or just 'Sherlock' as Linda insisted he would be called), was born at 2:21 PM, and just as with Mycroft's birth, he was due for a barrage of visitors at any given moment, especially from Ruth and the uncles, who were excited to welcome the youngest nephew and grandchild to the family. But for a moment, the four of them were alone, and Chris was thankful for the silence. Sherlock snuggled more into Linda's embrace, quietly smacking his lips in contentment. She stirred when she heard Mycroft stop beside her bed.

"Hey, Mike" she murmured sleepily as he climbed up next to her, watching the sleeping baby in her arms. "This is Sherlock," she whispered, rubbing Sherlock's back as he stirred against her. "Do you want to hold him?" Mycroft nodded slowly and sat back against the pillows as she passed Sherlock over. With the skill of an adult, he held his baby brother, his eyes never leaving the little face that was intently studying him.

"I hope he's not stupid," he muttered suddenly, tugging at the blankets that were wrapped around the baby. Linda sighed, rolling her eyes and Chris winked at her.

"He's a Holmes, Mike," Chris said. "He'll be anything but stupid." Mycroft looked unconvinced, but stayed quiet all the same. Chris moved to sit down on the other side of Linda, watching his son hold Sherlock as though he was a most precious treasure. A very protective older brother already, he thought to himself as Sherlock was passed back to Linda and she gave the baby to him.

"He looks so much like you," Chris said as Sherlock fidgeted, suddenly opening his eyes. The same blue eyes that belonged to Linda stared up at him. "Where was I when this one was being made?"

Linda chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure we'll see traits of you in him as he grows up."

Mycroft leaned against her to watch his father as he tried to calm Sherlock down, who wouldn't stop moving in his arms. "You're doing it wrong," Mycroft said, clearly annoyed. "You have to hold his head."

"I am holding his head," Chris argued. Mycroft rolled his eyes and sighed, getting off the bed to go around and take Sherlock from Chris. Amazingly enough, Sherlock stopped fidgeting as soon as he saw that Mycroft was holding him.

"You're going to be a very good big brother, Mike," Linda praised. "He's already taking to you." In a rare occurrence, he actually smiled and took Sherlock to the rocking chair by the window.

"Who would've thought this would be our life?" Chris asked as he put his arm around Linda's shoulders, a huge grin on his face.

"Two incredible boys. An unstoppable team," she said softly, snuggling into his side with a sigh. "You know, I've been thinking. Would you be completely opposed to me not going back to work?" Chris looked at her in surprise.

"But you love teaching."

"I do, but…they're my life now." She nodded toward the rocking chair. "Mathematics is in my blood, but in the face of being a mother, it seems terribly fatuous."

"I mean, if you're sure," he said with a shrug.

"Completely," she smiled sleepily, wrapping her arm around her husband's waist. "Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes. History in the making." As Mycroft started to softly talk to Sherlock, Chris fixed himself to be more comfortable on the bed and hugged Linda close, kissing her head.

"The beginning of a legacy," he said.

* * *

_**Next story in the Holmes Family Series: The Beginnings of Us**_


End file.
